Call Me Crazy?

For most of the past two years I have been living 1,100 miles away from my beloved children. The decision to move far away from them did not come easily but I have had to live with it every day since then. I have tried very hard to soothe myself with the fact that they live in my ex-wife’s hometown, a small place with very few job opportunities and where, for more than eight years, I struggled to earn a living and to make friends. I know that my life there was mostly unhappy and unfulfilling but, when my ex-wife and I were together, I at least could comfort myself in knowing that I could enjoy spending time with my kids every day.

When I agreed to move to my ex-wife’s hometown 10 years ago, I did so with an open mind and a sense of adventure. We had just gotten married and were leaving behind a lot of stress and strain. For one thing, we both worked in downtown Washington, DC, and the horror of 9/11 was fresh in our minds. For another, we had just survived a nightmare scenario, in which my whole extended family went to war with us over our wedding plans, which were apparently not in line with their highfalutin standards. The idea of raising our family in a tidy little New England village near the ocean seemed quite seductive at the time. I would find a job, and she would stay home and raise… (More)