Finally, I feel like I can break my silence. If you’re with me on Facebook, this is no surprise to you, but if you’re only with me on Twitter or here, I’m hoping I did a good enough job keep this close to the vest.
This past weekend, I finally got my family out of Colorado. I haven’t hidden the fact that I’m in Philly now — we decided to relocate because we had no school to bring our autistic son Jack to in Colorado — but I’m out there without the family and I’ve been there for 10 weeks.
When we decided we were moving to Philly, I started looking for a job and had one in three weeks. I had to leave. My wife Tiffany stayed back in our house with the kids so that our two who are actually in school could finish out the school year, but that was the only reason they stayed. School was out last Thursday, I flew out Friday night, the movers came Saturday morning and before that truck was finished loaded, Tiff and the kids were up in the air, on a plane to California.
These past 10 weeks have been about the toughest 10 weeks my life. I have a fairly decent lockdown on my Facebook and was vocal about it there, but I was very concerned for their safety so I didn’t mention them being alone (or even in Colorado) on Twitter and I blogged very, very sparingly.
Jack has really struggled for the past three months. We’re still narrowing things down, but we think he has ulcers that were severely agitated by antibiotics he had for an infected gash on his heel. His behaviors were the worst we’ve ever seen. He was injuring himself, injuring my wife, injuring his siblings … he didn’t intend to hurt anybody, but he has no good way of expressing the pain he feels so he turned to hitting and punching. We finally righted that ship a week ago and he started to do much better.
I talked to Tiff frequently, via phone and text and Facebook and FaceTime and every other imaginable way to communicate. I felt so horrible for the struggles she was going through. She packed up a four-bedroom house on her own for the most part and was dealing with Jack’s serious issues. I knew I had to do what I had to do in Philly, but I still felt pretty guilty for not being in Colorado with her helping.
I flew back twice to help get ready for the move and spend time with the kids, but that takes money and to say we have finite resources is an understatement. My brother was a huge help and went out to help for about three weekends. I learned very quickly that about the only thing tougher than not seeing your kids is seeing them on FaceTime. That’s when you realize what you’re missing.
Tiff was in complete misery and it was heartbreaking to me. I love that woman more than I can convey in writing and it’s my goal in life to provide her with a good life. She was living her own personal hell and it was killing me. I just tried to keep her focusing on getting out of Colorado and down to California, where her and the kids will stay (with family). I counted down the days for her by posting silly number images every day on Facebook for her. I knew that once she got down there, she’d have help and friends and a little bit of personal time here and there. Her life will be better in Pennsylvania than California, but it will still be significantly better in California than it was in Colorado. I tried to keep her looking forward to that.
I missed a lot of things being gone — violin concerts, soccer games, helping with math homework … you name it, I missed it. I think what’s even tougher than missing things is that I’m around two great kids every day. I’m staying with one of my two best friends and his family in Philly. He has two adorable boys who run over and cling to my leg while emphatically screaming “Uncle Sam is home!” when I get home from work. It’s nice to not be lonely. But then there are times when I see them and I think, “these aren’t my kids … I want to be with MY kids!” I went to a school play for one of the kids and it was fun. But it was so depressing knowing that my own kids were so far away, having their school plays that I was missing. I have fun asking them how their day was at dinner time. But I’d rather ask Ben and Ava.
Oh, and I missed being with Tiff on our wedding anniversary last Thursday. 14 years married now, and in a way it was fitting that we weren’t together this year.
Needless to say, I can’t wait until they get out to Philly. My family is nothing but chaos and commotion. But that’s my chaos and commotion and I miss it. I live for it. I die without it. We’re going to buy a house. Finally, now that the kids are out of Colorado, Tiff can come out and we can find something. And hopefully we can have a crazy-quick escrow when we do.
Until then, I’ll be stuck in this lonely transition. I’m glad Tiff’s life is better now, and of course, the same goes for the kids. They got down to California on Saturday afternoon and she told me that Sunday was one of the best days her and Jack have had in a long, long, time. I knew it wouldn’t take long!
As I always tell Tiff, I’m the hunter, and I’m getting us what we need. I can finally rest knowing she’s in a safe nest now. Better days are coming. I can’t wait.
John Atilano says
Sam, I’m so happy for you and the family! Although it has been unbearably tough, you all persevered. Better days are ahead my friend!
Amy K says
Sam it was SO much fun to see Jack and Tiffany on Sunday at Saddleback. It’s has just not been the same without you all. We are so excited to have them in CA for a little while and get to love on Jack while he’s at church. You left a big hole in our ministry when you left, but glad we get to have the family for a little while. Our prayers are with you always.