After an unsuccessful college tour this afternoon, I picked up the phone to call Mariah's dad and blast him about what an entitled brat we have.
The phone at his house rang and rang and rang ... he never did answer. It was during the phone ringing that reality hit me hard.
The reality of it all is I am calling a dying dad, to purge my frustrations about our daughter. He already feels guilty because he's dying, I can't imagine the day he has probably had already trapped in his own body to have me, the mother of his daughter, coming unglued.
Then, the realization that soon I won't even be able to place team-parenting phone calls to him anymore. Really I shouldn't be so selfish and be doing it now.
But I need to.
I need to be able to be a mom, be frustrated at my teenager daughter and call him to discuss a plan of action, because that's what we always used to do. Even if it was more me yelling and venting (he has the passive personality), he kind of had to listen and he did because we had a daughter together and these conversations were so few and far between.
I don't have that anymore.
Eric needs to be okay dying, knowing I will and can handle all obstacles in life when it comes to Mariah. He has to be able to trust me when he isn't here, yet I know he already does.
I need someone to be there though.
Thank you, God, that I have one that I can place a single phone call to in what I think is a calm and rationale voice, "Hey, can you talk?" A warm and immediate response, "What's wrong?" That familiarity is like a balm on my heart. Unspoken words that say it's okay, cry and tell me.
I cry. I vent. I purge every injustice and frustration without buffering my language or my thoughts until I do my own mental check winding down, did I cover my every detail? Yep. Now breathe.
My emotions uncensored and raw.
The reality of it all is I have a teen and pre-teen, soon both without dads. I can and will handle every obstacle that comes our way, but in between I claim being human and I will have my own moments and days where I need to be able to have team-parenting conversations with another.
