Once midnight strikes, it will mark 150 days that I have gone without seeing my daughter. A child that I cared for since birth, raised, pulled the first tooth, taught how to read, helped with her homework, coached her soccer team and put to sleep every night.
I had been the only one that she wanted to put her to sleep. Our ritual was always the same. We had to make sure that both of her night lights were on. Always. A running start would jump her into my arms as I swung her up and over the rail of her loft bed.
She always waited until she was in bed to tell me to get the socks. I had to put them on for her to, because once they where I would then have to smell them, to make sure her feet smelled like BBQ.
I would stroke her hair, and ask her what she wanted for breakfast in the morning.
I would then wrap my arms around her, and hers around me.
“I love you sweetheart.”
“Love you too.”
There was always a game we played before I left the room.
“See you in the…….”
“PM?” She would say.
“No no, that’s too late…”
“PZ?” She would say scratching her head as if trying to remember what the morning was called.
“Yeah yeah that’s right, AM… AM”
We would both laugh, and I would give her another kiss on her forehead.
“Fan on or off?”
She always had to choose. Every night was different.
“Ok, I love you baby girl.”
Then I would close the door and she would sleep.
I always took that ritual for granted, I always took all the rituals we had for granted. I never thought I would go without them. But I am, and it’s the rituals that I am no longer a part of that hurts the most. Now this precious little girl, of whom was my whole world has been programmed to not love me back.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” Then the phone goes dead.
There was a phone ritual that we had as well.
“Loveby Loveby Loveby Loveby Loveby”
Whoever could say it the longest would win. A game I took for granted, because now that its gone, I want nothing more than to play it. Nothing more.
You never would have thought that level of pain existed, never thought it possible.
But it is.
That pain is very real, very alive and it is born inside of parental alienation.