The bittersweet complication of new love and loss. Parenting children without a father and the art of accepting a new male role model in your children’s life.
I am sitting in the living room with my two-year-old. He is playing with his new favourite toy dinosaurs. One is large and one is small. He tells me “the big one is daddy dinosaur and the little one is Sully.”
Hmmm… He is now understanding that there are “daddies.” Immediately my heart sinks. I knew this day would come. He sees other daddies on T.V., at his daycare, in his neighbourhood. He knows there are men that are in families that take care of babies just like mommy’s do. He is starting to make those associations. What goes through his head? How does he organize his life? He doesn’t have one of those “men” that lives in his house. He never got to meet his daddy.
His daddy passed away in a tragic paddleboarding accident when I was 16 weeks pregnant. His daddy was missing for 3 weeks and 4 days until he was eventually found. His mommy had to endure turmoil during her pregnancy and was surprised that her baby was unaffected by the stress of her grief.
His daddy was there to name him and know he was a boy. But his daddy was not there for doctor visits, his daddy was not there for his birth, his first breath, and will never be there for any of his firsts. His older brother now 9 and sister 12 remember bits and pieces of their daddy, Andy, but sweet Sully never will.
I turn back to Sully who is still innocently playing with his dinosaurs and ask him “who is daddy dinosaur?” His response “Ryan is daddy.”
You see I have met and fallen in love since Andy’s passing. His name is Ryan. Ryan has known Sully since he was just over one years old. He is the only “daddy” that he has known. As excited as I was to hear that my baby viewed this man as “his” daddy, a feeling of guilt flashed across my heart. A twinge and ache of pain that this baby never has or will get to meet his biological father. A man who would have loved and cherished this baby boy with all his heart and soul.
I immediately start to talk with Sully about his dad in heaven and show him pictures. I want him to know everything about his dad. I feel guilty that he does not get to meet his dad I know this young toddler will not understand that his daddy is in heaven. He does not understand the difference between a dad in heaven and a dad on Earth. He does not know that he is fortunate to have a dad watching him in Heaven and a man that is willing to call him his own. He just knows that Ryan is daddy.
This to me is widowhood. This to me is now the bittersweet moments that I will now forever endure. I want my children to have a strong male role model. A man that they will feel like they can go to, that loves them, and they view as a dad. But there will always be a tug at my heart for all the moments that Andy will not be there. The moments that Andy will miss- every birthday, lost tooth, wedding, and more.
I am overjoyed and overwhelmed at the new love that I have found in Ryan. That my baby so connected to him that he feels he is his “daddy,” but there will always be an ache that accompanies happiness. Before the loss, I would never believe that you can be both happy and sad at one time.
I have learned that grief works that way. Happiness is now always sprinkled with a bit of sadness. We will continue to move forward. We will have a life continued. We will always say Andy’s name but we will be thankful that we can have a “daddy dinosaur” here on earth; one that will allow us to talk about our dad in heaven and love us like we are his own!
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