In her columns, our collaborator Nathalie Plaat calls on your stories. In May, she received those from children who have grown up (or not) and from parents who were kind enough to tell how the conflicts of separation have influenced their lives. Selected excerpt, on the side of hope.
The carrier pigeon is a docile bird, which performs everything that is asked of it without asking questions. He flies, from one place to another, delivering a message whose content he does not know. This fragile, yet powerful bird can bring hope or love, revenge or contempt, but it knows nothing about it. He is the messenger. However, he perceives in the eye of whoever hangs this missive the brilliance of the intention and the fiery tone of voice.
You were two and a half when I closed my relationship with your dad. I left for myself, to find myself. At that moment, I made the following promise to myself: never to use you like a carrier pigeon… When you needed a new snowsuit and boots, you never carried the bill between two addresses.
Your dad and I had chosen each other a very long time ago. We have been friends, accomplices, lovers, confidants. We laughed and messed around so much. We believed in each other, in ourselves, enough to choose to have you. I loved him enough to be your dad. I saw in him a being worthy enough to form a family. I have always had great respect for him, for us.
One day, the flame of love died out, for all sorts of reasons. He didn’t become a monster overnight, deserving of me pouring all my venom on him. No, it’s not up to you, the carrier pigeon, to bridge the gap between us.
It was essential that we continue to form a team. He and I had this priceless gift: you. Between us, we had to roll up our sleeves to collaborate in your education, instill in you the values that were so dear to us. […] That’s why we sat next to each other at parent meetings in September, in an already crowded classroom. We wanted to be there for what really matters. We both collaborated when, after recommendations from the school, we made the decision to start you on treatment for ADD.
Your dad and I have always been able to count on each other. Reproaches, aggressiveness, resentment have never been part of our weapons to destroy the other. Who would have suffered the most? You. I know our relationship as separated parents is enviable. […] Our greatest wealth, our support in this world of uncertainty is that we know that we are linked until your death or ours, thanks to you.
Respect and harmony
If you weren’t here, our paths would have gone a long time apart, never to cross again. In my eyes, he is not and will never be my “ex”. On the contrary, he is present more than any other passing spouse I have had, since nothing linked me to them. Your dad is not my ex, he is my present, forever, since you are there.
Yes, there were several nights when you cried, asking “why” and naming all your fears. At least there were two of us, in different houses, to tell each other about it. […] We never gave you a role that was not yours. If I have a pride in my life, it is that of having succeeded in preserving you from our storms. We worked out our disagreements when you were sleeping and couldn’t hear us.
While you returned to the benches of the 2e high school, we had a summit meeting a few weeks ago, dad and his wife, you and me. The four of us, sitting around a table (only a small beer was missing) discussing the tools we were going to give you so that your return to class goes well and your attitude is more adequate in their house. Yes, it is possible to chat between adults without tearing your hair out. Three adults who love you and who want your happiness without any rancor for what is: a couple of parents who did not pursue their quest together.
When it’s Father’s Day, I thank him for the support he gives me and the love he gives you. There is no longer any feeling of love between the two of us, but that of recognition of the contribution of the other. We are ready to do a lot to make you evolve healthily in a separation that you did not choose. Does he do as I would? Nope ! And often, that enrages me! Do I get on her nerves sometimes? Without a doubt !
I hope you will keep this gift that we give to you every day in your heart, as best we can. Live in respect and harmony.