Fifty-two days after an aggressive form of Cancer made itself known, it took my ex-husband’s life.


He passed away 11 days ago.  He was 56.  We had been divorced for 10 years in March and, despite knowing each other for 33 years, 23 of them married, and having two children together who are now 19 and 25, we were not friends.  And yet . . . I’m having a hard time processing grief that seems odd, irrational and so very inappropriate.


Even with 52 days warning of death coming, no one was prepared.


My children hurt in a way I cannot fix or even soothe.  Yet I won’t stop trying.


I am both sad and angry at him for leaving.


Am I entitled to be sad?


I’m so sad about the things he will miss.  The great accomplishments his boys will achieve throughout their life that he won’t be able to celebrate.  The girlfriends his boys will have and he will never meet.  The wives they will ultimately choose that he will never know.  The grandchildren who will only hear stories their fathers tell about their grandfather.   My heart is heavy over this.  And I cry a lot.


But what’s even worse is the level of anger I feel towards him.


He left me alone with our boys.  He.  Left.  Me.  Alone.  Did I think he was a great parent?  No, honestly I didn’t.  But he was a parent, he was present and he was their father.  Someone else they had to go to when they had questions, thoughts, ideas, and concerns.  He was their other guide through this life and now he’s gone and it’s just me.  I’m.  So.  Angry.


Please save your harsh words.  I’ve said them to myself.  This is not about me.  He didn’t do anything to me intentionally.  He’s DEAD for God’s sake, I’m ALIVE and I’m angry?


Just save it.


It is what it is and yes, I’m angry.


You don’t know them, and truly you don’t know me, but I would ask you to lift my boys up in your positive thoughts as they travel through one of the hardest years they are about to face – full of “firsts” where there father is not a factor.