Beautiful Innocence

Last night, as my kids and I were settling down in bed, we got to talking about families. My little one, Sabrina, said that families have mommies and daddies. I agreed that a lot of families have both mommies and daddies. Sometimes, there is just a mommy or just a daddy, like our family.

Elise, my 5-year-old, said, "I miss Daddy."

I nodded, "I know." She takes every opportunity to express this thought. It used to break my heart, but now it's fallen in the same category of "our dog died." Daddy and the dog are both things she brings up knowing that it will get an interesting emotional reaction from adults. My theory is that she's exploring that reaction. I'm not being callous, it's just the way it is with children.

My normal approach to any daddy conversation is just acceptance of whatever she feels and trying to answer her questions without getting too nitty gritty and without revealing my deep hatred for the man. I just don't think she's old enough to understand.

However, this time I decided to introduce a new dimension to the conversation. I said, "It's okay for you to miss Daddy. But you know what? I don't miss Daddy. And that's okay, too. We both have different feelings and that's okay."

I thought this would bring a torrent of questions from my verbal child, but instead it stumped her. She didn't seem distressed or upset, just quiet in deep thought. We will see what surfaces in a few days or weeks. It is amazing how things will seemingly be forgotten only to pop up at the weirdest times. With my luck, she will announce it during the children's message at church. After all, that's where she usually brings up our deceased dog.

It's funny how this conversation has been percolating in the back of my mind in the last day. I find myself wondering when I stopped missing him. Even when I moved here, I still missed the man I married. I hated him and missed him at the same time, you know? When I found myself missing him, I hated him even more. I still have those moments I suppose, but they are so very rare. I feel very content with him NOT BEING HERE.

For instance, tonight I watched Sabrina running around after using the potty (she just recently gave up diapers) with only a shirt on. Every time I told her to put on her panties, she would just squeal with giggles and run away. I was finishing my supper and didn't feel like chasing her yet, so I told her to go pull out that new package of panties we bought her. Predictably, she tore the package open so they flew all over the floor. Elise joined the chaos as they jokingly put the panties on their heads, on their toy dragon, on a pumpkin (yes, it's still sitting around from halloween) - everywhere accept on Sabrina. Finally, somehow, a pair went on her, but only after ten solid minutes of silly, innocent shrieking and giggling.

And I deeply enjoyed the whole scene because it was funny and cute . . . but mostly because it could happen safely. Without Jake, my children can run around naked in their own home and no one will look at them as potential sex partners. No one will see it as an opportunity to cop a feel or turn it into a sex game. Without Jake, they get to be safely innocent. That is enough reason to not miss him. Don't you think?

By the way, Sabrina is about to turn 3. She was born just three weeks before Jake was arrested. She doesn't know him, doesn't remember him, doesn't miss him.