As a single dad, I’ve learned that parenting after trauma requires patience I never knew I had. It started when my five-year-old spotted his “deceased” mother on our beach vacation – the beginning of a nightmare that redefined family for us.
After receiving that devastating call about Stacey’s fatal accident while I was traveling for work, I returned to a finished funeral and hollow condolences. Her parents’ strange behavior should have tipped me off, but grief clouds judgment.
The beach revelation changed everything. There stood Stacey, very much alive, with a man I’d never seen before. Her confession about faking her death to be with him and their unborn child left me reeling. But worse was seeing Luke’s little face crumple as he realized Mommy had chosen to leave.
These days, our healing comes in small moments – LEGO towers that reach the ceiling, pancake breakfasts, and the occasional tearful question about why Mom left. I answer simply: “Some grown-ups make bad choices, but I will always choose you.” Our story isn’t perfect, but it’s ours, built on truth instead of lies.
