I sit here by myself wondering what happened. Wondering what happened, and how it happened so quickly.
Why did it come to this?
Where did I go wrong?
A quick glance at my phone provides a few moments of company, but even that brief interaction won’t fill the void that I have. I’m alone. I’ve been abandoned.
The high pitched sound of laughter is gone. The ease of conversation has long since faded away. The proud looks my wife and I would share when one of the boys said “please” or “thank you” are now but a memory. I even miss the fighting. Who had the matchbox car first? Why is this one’s hand so close to the other one’s arm? Is it the end of the world or did little brother just eat big brother’s corn? The very same corn that only moments earlier big brother adamantly declared he wasn’t going to eat. Go figure.
The good and the bad, I miss it all.
Sure there are times in marriage when I yearn to be alone. A long day of work followed by a rough commute home often leaves me with a healthy appetite for silence. Silence often not achieved in our house until well after 9pm. Silence that is about as close as Antarctica when sitting at the dinner table with two picky eaters. But now that I have this silence, I find that I really don’t want it. Grass is always greener, right?
I glance around at my surroundings.
You know how you never really notice car commercials until you are actively looking to buy a car? That’s pretty much how I feel at this moment. Seemingly everyone in my vicinity was with their family. Sharing a laugh with a loved one while separating the kids from each other during a minor dust up, smiles on their faces as they shake their heads knowingly.
Me? I was alone. Abandoned and alone.
“Your check sir. Oh my, where did your family go?”
“Thank you. There was a meltdown and everyone’s already in the car.”
Brad the Dad can be reached at email@example.com. Follow him on Facebook or Twitter at keyword: readbradthedad
This article originally appeared on Chelmsford Patch on 9/9/12.