The Man that Hung The Moon.

Anxiety hits me hard on days like today. It's easy to think that I'm on top of the world. A job I enjoy, a family that's there when I get home, a successful Podcast, where almost everyday, I'm reminded that people all over the world are listening to my stories about life. And who am I? Definitely not the best storyteller, I can say that much. But my menial show and voice give some people a sense of topical humor I guess that they can relate and not feel so alone. And that's the goal. To ensure that if there's someone else in the world that feels like I do, reminds them they're not alone....And yet, here I am...Alone.
     Long work hours, and shorter winter days leave very little free time for the ones that matter most. I didn't see my kids today. They were in school before I woke up for work, and were fast asleep by the time I got off. the important thing to remember is that it's not out of malice or spite, or cruel intentions. I have to earn to make a living. And sometimes in order to do that, to really ensure they have a good future, I have to sacrifice days from time to time.
     The hardest part, is that they're still small. 5 and 1 years old....But these moments are crucial. Watching them develop and change on a day to day basis is the foundation to my existence. Missing those days is like going 24 hours without water.  They're still small enough to think of me as their hero. Someone who hangs the moon, and there will come a day in the dreaded teenage years where it will all stop...I don't want it to stop. Maybe by then I'll be okay with being away from time to time, but for now....Every moment is special. And in my own mind, the hours spent working long days away from them will add up and come back to bite me some day.
     My son is already telling me he's too big to hug me goodbye before school...And he's only in Kindergarten! Next, he'll be too big for my favorite pastime with him, which is playing action figures. The day will come, and I will be left here counting the days I missed. But, in order to provide, it has to happen. That's life I suppose.
     But every day, I see them learn new things and think to myself, If it's so hard to be away from these magnificent little people, how are there adults out there that can live with themselves, knowing they abandoned their children? Why are there dumpster moms, and absent fathers who are perfectly okay with not seeing or speaking to their children?
     Come to think of it, I haven't seen my own dad in over 6 years, maybe talked to him 2 years ago? And he lives an hour away. there came a time where I counted the days...He left when I was 2...came back when I was 5...disappeared until I was 8...then 12...then 16.....then a brief moment the day I graduated at 18....didn't see him again until my wedding day when I was 24...then for 6 months when my son was born, and not again since....There were days, weeks, even years where I would call and call and call....and never got a word back....there were numerous father's days and birthdays and christmas' where I was told, "Yeah I'll be there in the morning"....and I'd wait like an anxious puppy dog by the door until the sun went down, and he didn't show. Year after year I put myself through this...and for what? A person who I believed was a superhero. The man that hung the moon....After I was an adult, and had kids, I was baffled....2 years old is a crucial moment in a small child's life. They're learning all kinds of new things! How to talk, how to color, how to express themselves through language...pure happiness and joy. Something adults lack greatly...Who could leave that? For years at a time no less?   I guess there came a time in my own mind, when I realized that the phrase "I can't call you, it's just easier if you call me" doesn't apply...the phone works both ways...As a kid I always had call first, or make 100% effort...Shouldn't it be the other way around? I'll fight like hell to get to my kids every day. I'll make the effort for them because I want to be with them.
     I've never left my kids. I've never had the urge to walk away. To abandon them in any way shape or form. I'm there everyday, and there's STILL things I miss. The other day my daughter brought home some artwork from preschool....she's almost 2 years old, and she finger painted a bear...And I'll admit, I got misty eyed thinking about how I would've loved to see her thought process and happiness as she put her hands in wet paint and dragged them across paper for the first time. And there will always be moments like this. But I never want them to feel abandoned..."when is dad coming home?" And not knowing the answer...I refuse to let them experience that.
     And I know I'm there. It's only one day....But to a kid who's still learning how to tell time, and another who doesn't even speak yet...one day is an eternity. And that's one day I'll have to make up to them. for now, the anxiety will subside, I will be okay. I will like today...I will try to like tomorrow, and I will continue to hang the moon. even if it means doing so from a short distance in between them at home, and me driving home from work.