Being a mother of a large family was difficult. Being a mother of many children without support was ten times harder. Some days, I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I loved my children with all my heart and tried to give them the best childhood possible…
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I read to them at night, prepared their favorite meals, helped them with their homework, and kissed their scraped knees.
But sometimes, my strength waned, and I had nowhere to turn for support.
My parents had already passed away, and I missed them every day. If they were still alive, they would have helped me, or at least listened. But I had no one.
My husband, Henry, acted as if they were just my children and had nothing to do with him.
“I bring home the money. That’s enough,” he always said. But I knew the children needed more than money. They needed a father’s arms, a father’s praise, a father’s time.
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For years, I tried to explain this to Henry. I begged, I cried, I stayed silent. Nothing worked.
My hope kept crashing like waves against a cold rock. He never saw how extraordinary our children were.
Tom, Hailey, and little Michael were my whole world. But he kept turning his back on them.
“Dad! My project won first place at the fair!” Tom started shouting as he ran through the front door.
His face was beaming. He was holding a bright poster with blue ribbons pinned to the top.
Henry was sitting on the sofa, the TV remote in his hand. He didn’t turn around to look. “Mm,” he said, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Tom stood still for a moment, then lowered the poster and walked past him without another word.
A few minutes later, Hailey skipped in. Her cheeks were red with excitement. “Dad, the dance coach said I was the best in the class today!” she said.
Henry shrugged slightly. “Yes.”
That was it. Hailey’s smile vanished. She quietly went to her room.
That’s when Michael came in with a piece of paper in his hands. “Dad, I drew our family!” he said, holding it out proudly.
Henry glanced at it, then threw the paper in the trash without reading it.
I watched all of this. I felt something tear inside me, but I remained silent. I kept hoping he would change.
People say children need a father. But what if a father was just a man who lived with his family like a neighbor?
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