MamaSpeak: When a No-Parent Co-Parent Finally Makes Contact–Part 2

SPOILER ALERT: This is the second in a 2-part series.  Click here to read Part 1…

I drove to work Wednesday morning, the day I decided to make the call, struggling to imagine what the conversation would be like. Having no contact with my child for more than a decade is so incomprehensible and far removed from who I am as a person, that I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. What could he possibly say? What would I say? How would I say it? Does he deserve decency and respect, or am I well within my rights to cuss him out? How do I explain this to my son? Does my son even want this? What do I expect from him? What kind of relationship would I be comfortable with them having? What if my son treats him like a “Dad”? Would I consider that a “slap in my face”? Will his father be consistent? How would I react if my son started acknowledging him on Father’s Day?

This loop of questions ran over and over in my mind and would not end. I felt tormented. I really wished he’d stayed away. Fortunately, this wasn’t about me. And further, I was confident that the young man my village and I raised was fully capable of handling this reunification, no matter how shocking, difficult or brief.

After spending the majority of my work day tortured by the thoughts of calling this man, I finally decided to do it during my drive home. When he answered the phone I felt my body tense with anger.

“Hi, this is Leida, my cousin Ken gave me your number and said you wanted me to call you.”

“Yea, um, how are you doing?”

What? How am I doing? What does it matter to you now that your son is legally grown? You didn’t care how I was doing the whole time I had the responsibility of raising him. Don’t you WORRY about how I’m doing!

After my internal 20-second rant, I continued the discussion:

“Look…do you want to talk to Toris, your ADULT son? I’m assuming this is why you wanted me to call you.”

“Um yea, how is he?”

“He’s perfectly fine. He’s starting college in a few weeks.”

“Oh, where’s he going…Is he staying in the dorm?”

“Look, this is what I am willing to do…I will talk to him and let him know you want to talk to him. I am NOT giving you his cell phone number…HE will decide whether or not you talk…NOT YOU! Goodbye.”

Later that evening I was cleaning my bathroom when my son came home. As always, he joined me where I was so that we could have our normal evening chat. He gave the usual run down of his day and I followed with mine.

“So, yea, I talked to your dad today.”

“Huh?”

“Yea, he wants to talk to you, how do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. It’s cool, I guess. He called you?”

I then explained that he’d reached out to my cousin several days ago and passed on his number, and that I’d called him.

“Oh. Well, OK.”

“Look, Toris, you do not have to call him. This is completely up to you. As far as I’m concerned, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything. Do you want to call him?”

“Yea, I’ll call.”

“OK. You don’t have to. And even if you decide to, you can change your mind. Do you have any questions for me before you call him?”

“What do I call him?”
“Whatever you want to call him. Whatever you’re comfortable with. You owe him nothing. “

I felt so relieved to have had the conversation with my son. He deserved the option. I knew he could handle whatever happened between him and his father.  More importantly, I was happy that he would finally have an opportunity to have his say.

The following day I called his father to let him know that I’d had the discussion with Toris and that he may be calling him. I also requested that he keep his word with him and not make promises he had no intentions of keeping.  As quickly as I’d made the request, I wished I could have retracted it or, better yet, that I’d never made it. Toris , now 18 not 8, could handle it. I didn’t need to.

I’m no longer part of the equation. My conscience and I are free! I could walk away with the pride of knowing that I’d never spoken a single ill word about his father to him. I could walk away knowing that I’d always kept the door open for his father and never denied him access to his son, for any reason. I could walk away trusting that, though difficult for him on multiple levels, my son was grateful for this day. I could walk away knowing that my son was armed with the most powerful compass he could possibly have for navigating the terrain he was about to embark upon: the Truth (and the full support of his Mom).

And I did…I walked away.

That chapter is finally closed.