Chapter vii
vii
SATURDAYS HAVE BEEN ODD DAYS EVER SINCE DARREN and I divorced. I either wait all day for the kids to come home, or I wait all day to take them to Darren’s. I never feel settled on a Saturday.
When we first created this custody arrangement, I calculated that out of the 168 hours in each week, the kids were asleep for an average of 70 hours and at school for an average of 32 hours, which meant I spent about 66 hours with my kids over the course of two weeks. That’s why those hours are so precious to me. And why Saturday always feels like a countdown.
While I waited for the kids that Saturday, I cleaned the house, went grocery shopping, and looked at the schedule for the week: Valentine’s Day was coming up. Sammy had already made Valentines for his third-grade class, but I realized I hadn’t gotten any cards or treats for the kids. So I went out again to the local Duane Reade.
I’ve read that when you become a mother, your brain chemistry is altered completely. And it never goes back to the way it was. Your body does this thing called synaptic pruning, where the brain kind of clears away the gray matter it doesn’t need so it has space to grow new synaptic connections in areas like protection and empathy. Your brain chemistry is literally changed so that you center on your children. It’s fascinating.
In the last few years, I’ve come to visualize my life like a puzzle. There are so many pieces that fit together—my relationships with each of my kids; my relationships with Darren and his new wife, Courtney; with my parents, my brother, my friends, my job. Some pieces are bigger, and some are smaller, but they all fit together to make my life. And Violet, Liam, and Sammy are at the center.
Some people might have looked at my life and said I was missing a piece—the romance piece—but for a long time that piece was still you, the memory of you, the dream of you. And I was so afraid to lose that, Gabe, so afraid that if I removed you from the puzzle, it wouldn’t fit together anymore, that it would fall apart. But now I realize I’ll never lose you. There are more pieces now, and others have shifted; they create a richer picture. But we’re not there yet, are we? There’s still so much more story to tell.