The Sad Little Puppy

Last week I felt like I was really turning the corner about these Daddy days. I barely missed Esme at all. I honestly thought…I can do this. It’s great to have a break, maybe our relationship will be healthier because we get this time apart. I don’t need to feel devastated every week. I’m going to be fine.

And then…of course the roller coaster has to come back down from that great view at the top. And the scream on the way back down was Esme’s good night call tonight.

She almost never calls me to say goodnight.

Somehow when we moved out I started this thing where Esme called her dad every night to say good night. It just happened and it became tradition.

Esme has called me a few times on her daddy nights. It always makes me so excited to hear her voice. I keep my phone right next to me religiously when she isn’t with me. There was one occasion where I missed a call from her and they did not answer when I called back. I was devastated for weeks that I had not been there for her.

All of this is to say that Esme called tonight. It was actually the most devastating call of all. For some reason Esme has told me a few times this week that soon she is not going to have daddy nights anymore. I’ve tried to pry a little bit more as to what she means, it’s been impossible to get her to explain. She just tells me that they are going to end soon and she is only going to have mommy nights.

I’ve spent a lot of time wondering about these statements because they go hand in hand with the fact that she has come home from almost every visit with her dad lately having been sick while she is there. She either gets diarrhea or throws up and she almost always gets a fever.

So tonight for the first time she called me in tears. “I miss you so much mommy.” The whole conversation was her crying and telling me how much she missed me. When will it be a mommy day? When will it be Saturday? Then in the middle there was a section where she said “I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really  (and I kid you not there must have been 20 reallys, I honestly lost count) love you”

And there was nothing I could do. Every fiber of my being wants to rush up to her dad’s house, scoop her up and rock her in my arms, which is really exacerbated by the fact that I was already feeling that way tonight for the first time in quite a while. But I can’t do it. There is nothing I can do.

I asked Esme a couple times if there was anything either of us could do to make her feel better. She didn’t have an answer. I didn’t expect her to but I was hoping maybe…maybe there was something she could say that would help her dad to help her. And at the same time I was honestly holding my breath that she wouldn’t say “please come get me” then I think my heart truly would have broken.