it's all in the text

good morning....

Those two little words have been exchanged by my son and I every morning for as long as I can remember.

But today those words had a different meaning.

Today those words were not exchanged in his bedroom.

Or at the kitchen table.

Or in the living room, above the roar of the MLB Network recap show he watches EVERY morning.

Today those words were exchanged, via text.

From across the country.

From his little fingers to my little phone.

The fact that he is still thinking about me first thing in the morning is a great thing.

But I fully recognize that my sudden departure has brought a void in his life and the life of his mom and two sisters.

I can hear it in their voice and hear it in their texts.

And it makes me hurt knowing that they are hurting.

But like Jerry Lewis always says, this is for a good cause.

This was supposed to be a great fall for my son, instead it has been a great fall.

He was supposed to be playing tackle football and off-season baseball, all with his dad living one hallway away.

Two weeks ago he broke his hand in a football practice which ended his busy schedule, before it even started.

This came just a few days after I informed the kids that I was leaving.

That broke his heart.

Sadly, thousands of families inform their kids every day that dad is leaving.

Or mom is leaving.

But they are not coming back.

As a child of a divorced family, I can still remember that discussion like it was 31 years, seven months and 13 days ago.

For me, I think hearing that news was a relief.

The loud noises in our home had nothing to do with the MLB Network.

Rodney King did not invent, “can’t we all just get along”.

I did.

The good news for me and my family is that I am coming back.

Or actually they are coming back to me.

It’s just going to take some time.

Living apart, across the country, is not easy for any of us.

But knowing that there is a bright light shining, off in the distance, is what we are all focused on.

Deep down I know the kids are genuinely excited about what lies ahead for all of us.

But at 11-years old words like unemployment and mortgage and dad is not here anymore are words on a spelling test.

Not words in a test of real life.

I don’t expect the kids to know how I am feeling, but I definitely understand how they are feeling.

Growing up, we moved from one city to another after second grade and after fourth grade.

We moved from one state to another during tenth grade and after tenth grade.

During high school, I went to four different schools, in three different cities.

Amazingly it had nothing to do with bad grades or a bad attitude.

It had to do with work.

My dad’s work.

I didn’t understand it at the time.

But I can see clearly now that my dad is gone.