Here is a short story that could be told by your own children. I hope it touches you and motivates you to see and be a father to your children as often as possible.
Left Behind With Daddy by Peter Meyer
October 4, 2006 by pm
“See? Look out there, Mom, that’s my plane; it’s an L-1011 ’cause it’s got the two big engines — one on each wing!
“That’s nice Max. You will remember to tell your Daddy I said ‘Hello,’ right?”
“Yeah! — I won’t forget already!”
Max’s step-father had taught him him how to tell the difference between airplanes by the placement and number of engines on the plane. He thought it was neat to be able to tell people what the different planes were. With his preoccupation of identifying the huge jets outside the airport terminal, Max had almost forgotten why he was leaving home for a month.
“Flight 213 to New Orleans with continuing service to Dallas/Fort Worth now boarding,” said the voice from the ceiling.
“That’s me Mom. I’ll see you in four weeks.”
“OK, I love you — now, you be careful and make sure you call me when you get there. If you get a chance, write me — and give your Daddy a hug from me.”
“Yes Mom! OK! I love you, too. See ya.”
After Max gave his Mom a hug and a kiss, he boarded the airplane — off to see his father. This would be the first time he had actually seen his father in at least five or six years. He was excited, yet nervous, as he realized that he was actually on his way to see his father.
“Hi there!” the pretty flight attendant said greeting him at the door. “Are you flying alone today?”
Max hated it when flight attendants treated him like a kid — after all, he was twelve years old and perfectly capable of finding his own seat.
“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.
After the flight attendant safely tucked him into his seat and the plane was airborne, Max asked for some peanuts and a Coke and stared out over the city that he called home. He began to wonder, as he often did from time to time, why his parents got divorced. When he was younger, he had always thought of divorce as something that would never happen to his parents. When it did, he was very shocked. He had to admit that it seemed strange when Mommy and Daddy told him that Daddy was going to move out for a little while, but it never got even a second thought then — especially when they reassured him that it was only temporary. When they both told him that it would be permanent, all Max could do was cry and wonder why something as painful as divorce exists. What could possible be a reason to get divorced? Max just couldn’t understand. Ironically, he thought himself lucky in a way, since his parents were never bitter with one another over the years — not like the stories he had heard of parents using their kids to get back at each other. But he still didn’t like his parents so far apart; it was better before. Aw, what the heck, he was just a kid then.
“Here you go, sugar,” said the flight attendant, bubbly, as she handed Max his peanuts and Coke. “Who are you going to see today?”
He hated it when they talked like that to him. “My Da–,” he stopped. “… um … father,” he finished.
“Oh! Well isn’t that nice,” she said sounding surprisingly genuine. “Well if you need anything, sweetie, just push that button.”
“I will, thanks,” he said.
Max suddenly felt uneasy about seeing his father. It had been a long time, of course, but his father seemed almost like a stranger to Max — especially now that he realized he didn’t know what to call him. He couldn’t call him “Daddy.” It sounded too young for him, but that’s how he knew his father — only as “Daddy.” It seemed awfully strange to Max, all of a sudden worrying about what to call his father. “Mommy” had just naturally, gradually become “Mom,” but “Daddy” to “Dad” had never happened.
At this point he hated divorce more than ever. Big deal, they get divorced, married again, and everything is fine. “But I loose out on Daddy — I don’t get a new one,” he quietly said.
“Please close all tray tables, fasten seat belts, and return seats to their up-right position for landing,” said the flight attendant.
“Well, this is it,” Max muttered nervously.
Suddenly Max was scared of seeing his father: What do we talk about? Will he notice that I’ve changed? What do I call him?
“Guess I won’t call him anything,” he said to himself. It was the only solution he could think of.
As Max left the protective custody of his flight attendant, she said, “Have fun with your Daddy,” and many years later when he remembered the incident, he would wonder how she knew.
