Mom, It’s Like This…

“You know when you’re standing in line at the grocery store and the customer in front of you is talking to the cashier?  You know how the cashier sort of smiles, keeps working, and tries to answer the customer’s question, but really they just want to get through with that customer, and get on to the next, and be done working for the day?

You know how the cashier seems like she doesn’t really care about what the customer is talking about?

 

 

That’s what it’s like when I’m talking to dad.”

 

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4 comments

  1. How sad. This must have been Will talking. I think about what I would say to my own kids in the future when they have similar issues, and I know they will. The only thing I can think of to say would be that “Daddy was always like this… Daddy was like this long before you were born, son, and it is not your fault.” That is the only way I can think of to give them comfort.

    For myself, I hadn’t felt grief upon realizing my husband was a narcissist until recently. I just got away from him as quickly as I could and felt lucky to have been able to do it unscathed. Lately I have been coming to terms with the fact that my children will never have a normal daddy, and that the life I had imagined with him is gone, or, more accurately, never was.

    A Thousand Hugs

  2. Reese,

    It was Will. He told me this last night. They’d just come home from going out to eat with their dad.

    It has taken Will a long time to verbalize his feelings. In the past, he would always say, “Mom, I’m just not comfortable with him.” I knew what he meant but I didn’t want to put words in his head.

    The analogy with the cashier is quite telling. We all have been dismissed, at one time or another, in a social setting. Heck, most of us expect that kind of treatment from a clerk.

    A kid SHOULD NOT get that from a parent.

    Basically, I said, “I understand, Hon. I know how that feels. It has nothing to do with you. Dad has always been that way.”

    I’m sorry about your (necessary) grief phase. You probably hoped for smooth sailing now. For me, the adrenal from making the choice to end things and move out allowed me to coast for a long time. Then there was the dashed hopes and dreams to deal with. Then I had to deal with the disappointment in myself for not having provided for the best possible future for my kids, let alone myself.

    It gets better. I promise.

    Sending hugs back to you and yours.

  3. Wow. That is such a telling analogy and so sad. It must have been very difficult for your son to get that out. I hope he’s able to learn as he grows older that none of this is his fault…it’s just the way his father is.

    I haven’t had this happen with our kids yet in dealing with their Grandma who’s a Narcissist. We’ve had other stuff, but our kids are still fairly young and I insist on them having their father with them while visiting Grandma. I hope I’m able to deal with their pain as well as you are able to deal with your kids’ pain. And it really does help realizing we’re not alone in this.

    I don’t know Will, but sending out hugs to him anyway.

  4. Jenn,

    Thanks for writing. It helps that we talk – a lot – about how it’s their dad, and not anything they are doing. It also helps that they see that they are both treated this way by their dad. That further confirms that it isn’t that Will isn’t good enough, or Jenny isn’t good enough.

    I passed your hugs on to Will. Much appreciated. He’s a good hugger. ;)