Issac Hates Overalls


When Issac and I arrived home tonight (after dark, as usual), I tripped over a brightly wrapped package leaning on the door.

Issac exclaimed, without really thinking, "Oh boy! A present for me! For my birthday!" With that, he tromped inside and sat down on the floor to play with his toy train.

I, however, scratched my head and turned the box over. A tag in girl's handwriting read To Issac on his third birthday. Love, His Daddy (Michael). Tucked behind the ribbon was a hand-written letter from Michael's girlfriend, April, whom I have never met nor knew existed.

The gift follows a surprise visit from his Dad last week--the first in nearly half a year. I read the letter and then ripped the tag off of the gift and threw it away.

The letter, verbatim:

Dear Melissa,

My name is April. I'm Michael's girlfriend. I am writing to you because you have the power to give Michael the greatest Christmas present ever. He has told me that you are very stubborn, but also very kind. Therefore, I hope you can be stubborn in your kindness. Mike loves Issac and he would love to be able to spend a day with him. I know that this may not be acceptable to you right now, so all I am really asking is that you let him talk to his (and your) son. I am sure that it will bring your son as much joy as it will Michael. I am only asking for this in light of the holiday season. Please put your differences aside just for a couple of weeks and at least let them talk to each other. Michael has a cell phone that is currently only being used by him. The number is XXX-XXX-XXXX. If you call it, he is the only person you will reach. So you wouldn't have to worry about any awkward moments if somebody you didn't know answered the phone. I would (as would Michael) be so grateful if you would call him sometime to allow him to talk to Issac or just answer the phone next time he calls. I implore you to do this one kind thing, if not for Michael, then in light of the holiday season. Thank you so much for your time. Sincerely, April.

The gesture is sweet, but pathetic. I felt like throwing the gift away. To me, it is a token of every broken promise and every lie I've ever been told. It is a memory of a mistake that cannot make up his mind whether he should abandon his family or intrude into the peace we have struggled to create without him. A sign of the turmoil and abuse that shadowed Issac's creation and that threatens to return each time his father decides to contact us, which, this year, totals about five separate times.

I felt like crying, but nothing would come out. I read the letter again. I'm sure that a visit will bring your son as much joy as it will Michael. Just this past year, Issac has become old enough to show his disappointment in his father, and it is very painful for me to watch. The last time Michael called, Issac cried and said he didn't want to talk to him. After Micheal's in-person visit last week, I could tell that Issac was struggling to figure out his emotions. He became very quite and pensive, then explsoively angry. It is easy to see that he is feeling rejected. My heart breaks each time this happens. I feel like I have somehow robbed him of a father--but it's not me who has done this. Something has to give.

You have the power to give Michael the greatest Christmas present ever. It seems that they must think that I still actually care what Michael thinks or how he feels. But I don't. My "stubborn kindness" persisted far longer than was prudent, as I took Michael to court to legally establish paternity and a lenient visitation schedule (my cost, $1,500) even after I knew Michael was psychotic, because I am such a goddamn sucker and I couldn't imagine the pain of a parent living without his child. Even as I drove Issac back and forth 80 miles to his weekend visitations with his Dad when I was nursing and when Michael was living without car, employment, or even electricity, because I'm such an idiotic softie, and I empathized with the pain of missing one's child. Even as I paid Michael to babysit his own child because I was desperate for Issac to know a father. In short, I acted a little loopy out of my own empathy for the creep. I'm so over it.

But really, enough is enough. I don't feel even one smidge of sorrow or pity for Michael. That relationship was f***ing abusive and was the single biggest slice of hell that I have ever been through. Evidence that has been amassing in documented court cases against Michael shows that nothing has changed. It is dangerous for Issac to be near him, period. He has a history of domestic violence and of being suicidal and out of control. They want to ask me to do "one nice thing, in light of this holiday season"?
They want to ask me to have mercy in the name of the christmas spirit? My mercy is that I pray for forgiveness each day. My nice thing is that each morning and night I genuinely ask God to help me release my resentment toward him.

I eventually did open the package. In it was a pair of overalls. Issac hates overalls.

I finally started to cry.