Dear Kids,
I have often written to people in my life, but never to you. Today, I feel the need to. Five years ago, I left your father. I know you didn't understand at the time but I always felt that one day you would. You understand a lot more now but not everything.
First of all, when I married your dad, I came from a highly dysfunctional home. I went from that directly into a dysfunctional marriage. You see, I didn't understand love. It was never modeled in our house. All I saw growing up was fighting. My parents were completely mismatched and yet, they stayed together for the "sake of us kids"...something that was done during the time I grew up.
When I married your dad, he said all the right things. My grandmother, in a moment of lucidity before she passed said, "That Lisa's husband...he's a charmer but he doesn't like to work much." Well said, Grandma. And I must be honest, it was true.
Your dad, as you may or may not have noticed, flittered from one job to the next. He never stayed in one place for very long. Just as he was starting to get a taste of success, he changed jobs. He often left the country for months on end to see his family. How he could leave our family for such lengthy periods, I didn't understand.
At the seven year mark, I confided in my dad and told him I wanted a divorce. Since two of you were born already, he basically patted me on the head and told me to go home. I could not do that to my children. I listened to him like a dutiful daughter. Perhaps he saw the handwriting on the wall.
At the ten year mark, I had the financial means to leave your dad and told him I was going to. He looked me square in the eye and told me if I did, he would take you kids to Kuwait and I would never see you again. I believed him. He had a look in his eye that I could tell he would do it. And frankly, no judge would have not allowed visitation with him because he had never really done anything terrible other than emotionally destroy me. By this time, I was suffering daily anxiety attacks, so much that I wanted to end my life. But, I hung in there -- because I had recently lost my own father to suicide and knew how devastating it was.
The next 21 years were spent suffering from continual anxiety and what I now know was depression. Your dad did not believe in anti-depressants or seeing doctors for psychological disorders. In his mind, it was a conflict of interest to keep someone sick. We did not have any marital relations for the last 10 years of our marriage. At year 23 of our marriage, he announced he would work for the US government in Iraq for one year. That one year turned into 3 1/2. I was hanging on by a thread. I think your brother and sister knew it but you girls were already out of the house. I just lived each day at a time. I functioned...barely.
Over the years, I inherited over one million dollars but it disappeared. Your dad's work history was sporadic and I used the money to raise you. I worked throughout the years but never made enough to care for a family of six. This was his excuse for leaving in 2004. To make money. Unfortunately, it was always about the money. In 2009, after grandma passed away, I gave him my inheritance to open an insurance agency. As you know, he chose to leave...this time for Las Vegas. After a year, I moved out here. I don't think he expected me to. He opened the agency and maintained from day 1, it was losing money. He maintained the agency was not making money when in fact, our household income was $300,000. Unfortunately, I trusted him, as I did over and over again. I did not think someone who was married to you for 31 years would screw you over. I was wrong. He not only screwed me over but also your sister and brother. He didn't pay the household bills and gave me a song and dance that we only had $50 a week for groceries. I don't know where the money went but I left and let him keep the agency, which he sold.
So why am I writing? To lambaste your father to you? No. The truth is, I want to apologize. I want to tell you how sorry I am that I raised you in such a dysfunctional household. I did it so I would not lose you. I didn't know how depressed I was until I took myself to a doctor after I'd left and asked for an antidepressant. Suddenly, my world changed. I changed. I did not know what emotional abuse looked like until I stepped away from your dad. It took me over three years of therapy to get better. I didn't know what real love looked like as I had never seen it. I only understood control. And I'm sorry your dad left the U.S. for Kuwait after our divorce. It would have happened 21 years earlier with you in tow. At least, I still have my children and grandchildren. Nothing else matters to me. And know that it wasn't you...it is him.
And so, please accept my apologies. I love you all more than life itself. My only "real" regret in our marriage was not having the courage to leave sooner.
I love you,
Mom
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