Why I'm a Single Dad

Why I'm A Single Dad

I sometimes think about what possessed me to seek custody of my son after our divorce. My ex-wife was giving me a way out by not seeking child support. I was free and clear. So why did I not follow the current standard of men (particularly black men) and let her have primary custody while I settled for weekend visits?

In the end, it comes down to three people: my dad, my son's brother's dad and me.

My Dad

My dad was never around. He couldn't care less about me. See, I was the product of...well, let's just say that at least ONE of my parents was married. And...not to my other parent. My dad (the married parent) distanced himself from me. You see, his wife had recently had a miscarriage. It was a boy. So imagine his family's anguish and rage at the fact that he now had a son, but it wasn't within his family. So, pretty much, I was despised in his household by my half-sisters and, not surprisingly, his wife.

I only met my dad once. I was 17.It was at a concert that the Detroit Public school system would put on every year called “The Evening of Fine Arts.” That night was a showcase of artistic talent from all branches. I was there as part of a couple of choirs. My dad was an art teacher at one of the local high school and some of his students had works displayed for the event. He shook my hand, asked me a few questions about my plans, said good night and left. It was the first and last time I ever laid eyes on the man. I couldn't even tell you what he looked like.

I did have occasions to speak to him after that. I think we spoke about three times, each time with me being the initiator. I can't remember anything but the last one.

Being the irresponsible youth that I was, I hadn't planned well for my prom expenses. I had almost enough, but I still needed a little to push me over. I decided that I'd ask my dad. Up to now, I hadn't asked for money. I thought, “I'm graduating, so maybe he'll give me this as a graduation present.” I was at school when I had this bright idea, so I went into my choir teacher's office (I had it like that) and gave him a call. He answered and we chatted. Finally, I popped the big question. His “no” was immediate. His reasoning still haunts me to this day. He said, “You're 18 now and I'm done with you.” That was the last thing that I ever heard my father say.

My Son's Brother's Dad

When I first married my now ex-wife, she had three kids from previous relationships. The youngest of them was the son of a former co-worker of mine who, in no uncertain terms, hated my guts. And while the feeling wasn't exactly mutual, it wasn't far from it.

So when he found out that I was marrying his “baby mama”, (I hate that term so, soso much...) he drunkenly called her and left several messages about how he didn't want that <expletive deleted> raising his son.

Funny thing though, he didn't know anything about him.

After our wedding, he would call to occasionally, mostly to pester her about one thing or another. When he would ask about his son, he would ask questions like, “Is he walking yet?” (He was 3.) He put up so much of a fuss about me raising his son, but when it came down to it, he just didn't want anybody else to do what he wasn't doing.

Me

By default, I'm kind of lazy. I'm a horrible housekeeper, I enjoy entertainment a bit too much and it takes me eons to actually call someone. Add to the fact that I like being alone quite often.

So I asked myself, “If my son is living with his mom, how often will I see him?” I love my son with all of my heart, but, being me, I was afraid that not having him around would make me lazy about being a dad to him. I suddenly saw myself as both my dad and my son's brother's dad, not caring about the everyday worries of his life as long as I kept my minimum required promises. I saw my son becoming another statistic: black boy grows up without father. I saw myself becoming another stereotype. And I was having none of it.

So I made my choice.

It wasn't (and isn't) easy. 

He's three right now and he's full of energy and attitude. I work an odd-hour, full-time job, so daycare is a good chunk of my income. Again, I'm not a very good housekeeper, so cleaning up behind myself and my messy mini-me is a challenge.

But I'm thankful.

I'm thankful that my ex didn't put a fight over custody.

I'm thankful for the support I've received from friends, family and, especially, my church.

I'm thankful for the challenge. It's helped me grow in amazing ways.

And, most of all, I'm thankful that I get to see this beautiful boy grow up. I can't wait to see who he becomes!