Day 40: Single parenting—Things they dont' tell you.

I'm going to keep it all the way authentic with you on this one. I'm just going to let this roll and chat away like a chatterbox. Yes, I'm using the voice-to-text capabilities, and this is one of the examples of why it's good. One of the reasons this is a good product is that sometimes I'd rather not write or sit and type. Although I do believe I type pretty fast, or, in better terms, effectively and efficiently, today I'm just going to speak and talk about it, whatever that may be.

Today, as a recap, was a great day, mostly filled with back-to-school shopping. Yes, it may be the last day before school, but you would not have known that from the way everything felt today. Today, I was really grateful to spend the entire day with my daughter, everywhere, just me and her. Nothing really mattered except that we were doing our thing together.

They don't tell you, as a single parent, how hard it is. It's not hard as far as the work of raising a child. What's hard is knowing that the structure is incomplete and having to see your own child in the effects of that incompleteness. Even with as much of a good time as we always have, and even though there is more joy than sadness, there are always moments when I can tell that everything is good, but there's just one thing missing. As a parent, it hurts even more when you know how deep an impact it's making. That, I don't think, is even talked about much on social media platforms.

It's bittersweet, too. Raising my daughter, mostly out of her 5 years of life, and attending to her single-handedly for the last 4 years, it was bittersweet knowing that the time we spent together still wasn't enough. I understand now what parents go through and what they feel.

For 45 years, we had the whole day together. Sometimes we spent it efficiently, sometimes we just chilled at home, sometimes I let her do her thing, and sometimes we were doing our thing together. That's all going to come to a stop tomorrow, and I'm just sitting there, thinking, "Damn." It was just yesterday when I said I was going to skin-to-skin with her, because at the time, my wife was telling me about how that helps the baby out, how it leaves a positive energy and feeling, and things like that when you're skin-to-skin. I even had pictures from the day she was born, with her sleeping on me, my shirt off, and me in the hospital. I'm literally sitting right there next to my wife at the time.

She's going to school now, and I'm not going to see her for about 7 hours. It made me really grateful for just going out shopping together, just being together, and eating together. Nothing matters more to my daughter than just being there with Daddy, and that's a great feeling because nothing matters to me except being with my daughter.

It is hard sometimes, though, when I see her in the rearview. She doesn't even have to say anything, and I already know: "I miss Mommy." As a parent, the worst feeling is knowing that there's nothing you can do about that. No matter how encouraging you can be, no matter how well you communicate the situation, no matter how efficient you are in teaching her how to handle and regulate her emotions, that feeling of emptiness is always going to be there. It does hurt, and every time I think about my ex-wife, I feel frustration. Initially, it was anger, but I can't control her. I have no control over her.

At the end of the day, I do know that her mindset will always come back to her family, us. I just know that the feeling she's feeling is one I hope I will never feel, so I hope she's doing okay and my prayers are sent out to her, as usual. Even though the sentiments are neutral and more forgiving in nature, now, it still doesn't change that feeling I see within our daughter.

The hardest part of being a single parent is knowing that it is incomplete. It's knowing that the child is deeply affected and is always going to have more negative feelings than positive ones within that space, that hole or void that forms when a parent chooses to leave.

Nonetheless, all I can do is be the best parent I can be for her. I can continue to encourage her, acknowledge her feelings, and assure her that what she's feeling is okay for her to feel. More than that, it is right for her to feel the way she does.

I'm not the perfect parent, nor am I perfect as a person, but every day, my intent is to be the best I can be in every moment and every experience. That's the best I can give, and knowing that this is naturally and instinctively how I carry myself in all engagements gives me a good feeling.

Therefore, today was perfect. Maybe that's why I felt like it didn't need to be written down, but rather expressed. Sometimes you just have to say things and be vocal. Those melodic, rhythmic notes magnetize just as much beauty. I'm grateful. Thank you. Be love, and remember that the universe is always working in your favor.