First Goodbyes

“How do we handle this?”  Mr. Hyde asked in a panic just before leaving to pick up his kids for our weeknight visitation.  It was the last time my son and I would see or spend any time with his kids.  I knew it would be a hard night emotionally, but we had to get through it.

We just had them through the weekend, and Mr. Hyde had asked me not to say anything and just treat it as a normal weekend.  I told him I would respect his wishes and handle it whatever way he thought was best for his kids.  All weekend we did the usual stuff -- playing games, watching movies together, all the while guilt and sadness churned in my stomach. 

A few times Mr. Hyde asked about when I would be packing and I shushed him, afraid the kids might overhear.  Then Sunday morning, while visiting a store to separate our cell phone bill, he dropped the bomb on me... he had already told them on Friday night.

All weekend I had been respectful by not mentioning anything, not packing a single box or doing anything to give away the move and they already knew?? ? Hadn’t Mr. Hyde said he didn’t want them to know yet?  No one ever accused Mr. Hyde of being predictable.  The weekend went fine, and the kids didn’t behave any differently toward me. So I guess they took the news alright -- I was the only one who wasn’t in the loop.

So when Mr. Hyde called in a panic before their weeknight visit, I was a bit confused.  “They already know, so why would tonight be any different?”

“Because it’s the last time they’ll see you.”  Mr. Hyde explained.

I reminded him of how well the weekend had gone and that his daughter would probably be more upset about the dog leaving than me.  I knew she would miss me too, but I can easily be replaced by another woman; she could never replace the dog.