The last time.

Dear Father of my Children, 

I am choosing to believe that someday, someway, you will come upon this. I know that you always used to read my blog and love to do so. Maybe there will be a flashing glimpse of that past self that will bring you back here again.

Today, I did something I didn't see coming. When I decided to do it, I didn't expect it to be difficult. I don't know why.

Today, I printed and picked up photos for the children. Photos with you in them. Photos of happy times. 

Your oldest son, who is now almost five and has an amazing memory and heart full of compassion, asks about you often as of late. He talks about you, and thinks about you. I can see in his eyes when you're on his mind, and when I ask him what he's thinking about, his answer is "my daddy."

He tells people that you're missing. He says that you're making bad choices. He says he has lost his daddy.

And all of these things are true.  You're like a missing person on a poster. The kids search for you as we drive around town. They're longing and looking constantly. They don't know if they'll ever see you again but their hopeful little hearts seem to believe that they will. I try to believe the same but it is quite difficult knowing the last I ever heard from you was a text message on July 5. We have spent hours together, the kids and I, trying to locate you and find some meaning in your disappearance.

He is correct. Your choices are not good. You chose to disappear from them without a trace for a life of partying, lust, and frivolous activities, among other things. He knows it's a bad choice to not see the people you love and let them know where you are. He knows it's a bad choice to lie and to not follow through. My nearly five year old son seems to be much better at deciphering right from wrong than you are, and his conscience seems to be much more in tune with reality.

You ARE lost. You're a lost soul who has chosen dark roads traveling with Satan. You convinced me years ago you were a Godly, moral man, and the more I look back over the past few years, the more I am convinced you conned me.  

But not only that, he has lost you. Like how my mom lost her parents, only they no longer live. In some regards, it's like you've ceased to live, though. It's almost like you don't actually exist on this earth with him. 

It's funny how you almost never know that the last time you see someone would be the last time. Much like when someone dies... You often don't get a final goodbye. There's no resolution or closure. That is what you've left him with. It's what you've left us all with. 

Over two months ago, after your daughter was hospitalized with potentially life threatening illness, you came back and saw your children at the park. You saw them for an hour. The boys were thrilled beyond belief to have that time with you, their smiles so bright and their laughter elated. They couldn't stop vying for your attention. They wanted to play so long. But after an hour you "had to go."  You promised you would call the next day and see them again the next week.

And then you ceased to exist. You disappeared. Senselessly and cruelly, you just gave up on them. 

Had we known it would be the last time, would we have even bothered to see you? Would we have allowed you to get their hopes up again, only to be crushed again? Would we have begged you to stay longer? Would they have hugged you tighter? Would they have had more to say? Would they have bawled for hours? Would their hearts have been shattered beyond repair knowing that was the moment you would leave them for good? 

Today, I picked up those photos and put them in albums for the kids. This photo was in there. I decided that it would maybe help our children cope with your complete absense if they could at least "find" you in these photos when they cannot locate you anywhere else.

This photo was taken during the last few minutes of the very last visit they had with you. The last time you heard them laugh or say I love you.

I do not understand, even a tiny bit, how you could toss that to the wind. I do not understand how you could choose to miss out on their lives.

Right now, they love you. They talk about you and how much you love them. Spencer tells me how much you miss him, even though you refuse to contact him. I try my damnedest to agreed with him wholeheartedly, but my mind and my heart are not sold on that as truth. I never forced you out, you disappeared willingly, and could have come right back if you really did love or miss him. 

But unlike you, I am not cruel, and for now, while his tiny heart is filled with the idea of your love, I will try to help sustain it the best I can. I will swallow the lump in my throat and choke on my tears as e smiles paging through the photos telling me these wonderful things about you. I will not break his heart or crush his spirit like you have done. That is true love.

The boys pray for you. They pray God protects you and looks out for you. They ask Him to keep you safe. They don't say it, but I feel they pray for you to come back.

I choose to believe that could happen, but I cannot hang my heart on the waiting for it. And I will not let them invest everything they have in that either. 

I try to surround them with others who love them. Show them others who care. The people who choose to love on them. The ones who aren't lost. You cannot be replaced, but I am trying to fill them up while you siphon away.

I hope when you read this, for at least an instant, God can get through to you. Miracles can happen, our children are proof. I will be the warm hearted woman you claimed to love deeply and continue to pray for you in hope you will find the way before it's far too late.

-Nicole