The Hilton, Elizabeth, 2014
It's perfect. Absolutely Perfect. I'm in awe of them. Their strength, their love, their intelligence. They are well adjusted and busy kids. They are empathetic and passionate. Henry did an amazing job. I refuse to think that I actually had anything to do with the amazing people I am spending the morning with. Its been a fast passed game of catch up, with the girls anyway. Jason is still cautious, slowly opening up when his sisters prod him into doing so. I don't mind, I thought this was going to be much, much harder. Having them be so willingly open with me is a wonderful surprise. I've been able to read a paper Stevie wrote for her international law class. I've seen drawings that Allison has done. And Jason showed me his high score in Halo, which am I am to assume is a high accomplishment. I've been passed phones to see instagrams, and snapchats, and tweets. But then in a lull of conversation, the perfection ends, like I knew it would.
"Where have you been?" Jason is the one who breaks the ice into the uncomfortable. I notice Henry perk up from his place across the room where he is playing Hot Wheels with the little ones. We haven't talked about this, him and I. We haven't decided what we are going to tell them. And I'm not sure it's my place to decide what they're told.
"Hey boys, do you want to go find a playground?" Henry sends the twins off to get their coats sensing my panic.
"Elizabeth, you can tell them the truth. As much of it as you're comfortable with. They can handle it." I look at him unsure. I don't even know what I want them to know, does the knowledge protect or hurt them?
"I'm going to take the littles out for a walk, I'll be back I about thirty minutes, okay?" I find myself nodding, even though I'm pretty sure he was talking to the kids. And then he takes a small hand in each of his own and walks out leaving me here alone, with the children I hurt so badly.
"Mom, it's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Stevie breaks the ice. And one look at her face, sullen and hurt. I know she knows. She knows all of the things, I went through in that room. My heart brakes for her, she shouldn't have had to hear that, any of it. They all are going to know. At some point, they will check the trending section on YouTube or Twitter. Or if they walk by any newspaper in the country this week, or catch CSPAN or CNN.
"I can. Its just… it's my job to protect you guys. And I know that um, maybe you believe I haven't done that, with everything that happened. But, I just… I love you all so much." I pause, mostly because I'm rambling and I don't want to not make sense. Its hard, to admit your faults and your secrets, and your trauma to your kids. I take a centering breath and choose my words carefully.
"I was hurt in Iraq." It starts simple, Stevie may know that whole truth about that time, but I will protect the younger two from that for as long as I can.
"And I was there for a while. And when I got home, I was pretty messed up. I made a lot of choices that hurt a lot of people. But I never, not for one minute, stopped loving any of you. And the choices I made are not your fault. And I am so, so, very sorry. I will spend the rest of my life doing my very best to prove to you all how much I love you." I look at their faces. Stevie's small smile, Allison's deep contemplation, and Jason's confusion.
"I have something for all of you." I start again, not wanting to sit in the uncomfortable silence of my making. I get up from my place on the couch and grab the canvas bag out of my suitcase, while three curious stares look on. I run my hands over the boxes before I pass them out.
"Open them." I tell them gently, for the first time wondering how the cards will be perceived. When they were written it was under the assumption that they would not be read. I watch their reactions. Stevie opening and reading without thought. Allison organizing the order and then opening. And Jason, staring at the envelopes.
"You don't have to read them, Jase." I reassure him. I forgot, how hard it is to be a parent. And the guilt I feel for leaving Henry alone with the task multiplies itself.
"No, I'll read them." He grabs the box and leaves the room. And I've learned more about him in the ten seconds it took for him to do that. He has Henry's need to process alone. I've learned more about all of them this morning than I thought I ever would know. Stevie's brow furrows when she's covering emotion, she gets that from me. Allison wears her heart on her sleeve, no deception no tradecraft.
I can't believe that I made them. I grew them and I carried them. I labored for them and I birth them. I held them and nursed them. I read to them and sang to them. And then… I left them. The guilt I feel for that may never fully resolve. But I will not leave again. I will be here, running head first into the hard stuff. Because it's not the hard stuff, being away from them, that was the hard stuff.
I look up at Henry when he walks into the room and smile. I've been doing so much of that lately, it almost foreign. But this can work, we can make this work.