My parents divorced when I was 7 years old. I don't remember specific fusses, but I know that things were not good at our house and there was a lot of arguing. There was never a custody battle, I was really the only child young enough to even deal with visitation rights, as my siblings were mostly grown. The deal was that I would visit my dad on Friday nights and he would bring me home on Saturday.
I remember when he moved out to a rental house. I've been told later that it seemed like someone had 'coached' me on what to say, although no one did. When we went to see Daddy's new house, I walked around the small house and the yard, commenting, "This is nice, Daddy."
Christmas came, and my mom told me later that she asked me what I wanted for Christmas. How heartbreaking my answer must have been, "I just want my Daddy back." She said she cried all the way to work. You know the saying, if you don't really want to know, don't ask a child!
But my visits with Daddy on Fridays were special. He would come pick me up and we always stopped at a little convenience store close to his house. He would buy me any 'sweets' or 'goodies' that I wanted; this was a real treat because I wasn't used to having such luxuries, even if it WAS just honey buns and chips! I remember telling my dad, "turn on the bathroom light, Daddy, I'm afraid of the dark." His answer? I'll never forget lol, "Close your eyes and you won't be able to see the dark!" Then he held my hand (with the bathroom light on lol) until I went to sleep.
This will also be a continuing story...but I'll take one chance and spoil the ending for you...my parents remarried each other when I was 10, answering the prayers of one now happy little girl! | 