Parenting is Hard

Parenting is hard. Knowing what to say and what not to say is hard. Parenting one through a break-up is hard. Parenting with all this hindsight is hard.

Moonshine got her heart broken this past weekend. She’s devastated. I saw it coming but what can I do? He left for college, and no matter how many conversations they had about how they were going to be the ones to make it work, two weeks later he dropped the boom. She was just so excited to see him, she didn’t see it coming, but then, maybe she did and just didn’t want to believe it. She’s sad they only made it two weeks after he left. She’s just really sad.

I think the worst thing about this is we really can’t trash-talk the guy, he was a good guy. He is who she will forever compare other boys to and hopefully they will live up to that standard. And really, no one can fault him for wanting to start a new life in college. Everyone should do that. I pray Moonshine does that when it’s time for her to go. Just go and learn and live and love and be involved and have a blast, it’s college. It’s your opportunity to explore what you want to do before you’re expected to be a grown up. Just maybe don’t break my baby’s heart in the process.

We had a going away party for him a week before he left, he was a part of our lives for nine months too. And Moonshine came downstairs at the end of the night and said, “I’m in trouble. I’m in too deep.” And she was. But would you do things differently? I mean, really, don’t you remember that young love where you’re all in and you think nothing will ever change how you feel about each other? Yeah, I don’t. I think I haven’t had a good love story.

I moved to Colorado with this guy. Strike that, I moved to Colorado to get away from this guy and then a month later I moved him up here and we moved in together. It lasted exactly three months and he moved out. I felt awful because I’d moved this guy to Colorado, away from his family, only to make him move out when we didn’t work out. That was the end of October 1990 and we’d been together two years. In November 1990 he called me at work to tell me he wanted to go home and would I take him at Thanksgiving. I said I would and to call me if he really wanted to go. He called but I’d already left. That’s what we did before cell phones. I never heard from him again.

Thanks to the magic of the internet, I know he married someone in February of 1991. Exactly three months after we broke up, he was sitting home, pining away about what a great love we had, and he married someone else. Talk about a not-so-great love story. They were married until 2002, had two kids, and he died in 2005 at the age of 35. I don’t even know how. But he was part of my story, my history.

Right after Moonshine’s heart break, she started deleting pictures and texts and cleared off her wall that was covered with his pictures and cards. I told her to stop because she’s going to want that one day. He was a huge part of her history and she was a huge part of his, and she’s never going to regret their time together because it was good. I don’t have anyone I can say that about….yet.

And finally, Heather (holla!) perfectly summed up my inadequate feelings about what to say when I got home from a community theatre performance of Rent to find Moonshine in a crying heap on the couch.



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