Responsibilities

My youngest son, M., is in football. He's not particularly good at it, but he's built like a tank and because of how they assign age/weight points, the biggest kid in the Rookie division. (If it wasn't his first year, he'd be forced to play with the older kids). My husband, T, was the one excited about this. He was going to help M. with his plays. Help him learn how to throw and catch a ball. Play Madden on the X-box together. You get the idea.

And yet I am the one freezing my toes at the football games. I am the one trying to throw a spiral. I am the one texting the score to T and calling grandparents, filling them in on every detail. And that was fine.

Until he dumped me.

Everything is so raw and painful, I've chosen to stop as much contact with him as I can. I still email questions about logistics, still urge my kids to call and say goodnight. But gradually I've stopped being the one to initiate contact.

And now that I'm not texting, nobody is calling. Nobody wants to know the score, know whether or not M made the tackle. Nobody calls to say goodnight. Needless to say, I find this painful, as does my son. He's lost his fragile enthusiasm for the game, telling me, "Nobody else likes football anymore except you."

And my heart breaks. I hate my soon-to-be ex for doing this, for failing to be a father without me holding his hand and prompting him. And I'm conflicted. He made it very clear we were no longer a family; it is no longer my job to watch out for him, to guide him in what his kids need at the moment. I tell myself to let him fall, that it is the only way for him to learn responsibility, to learn that he can't just neglect his kids except when he's in front of them. It's also impossible to move on when I'm performing the same roles; keeping him connected to his family- a family that he doesn't want to include me in. But I look at my son's face after a tough game and my resolve flies out the window. I don't want to call him. But I do it anyway.

And hate myself for not being able to let go.