Today was one of those days where I felt a poignant absence—my dad’s absence. I had a doctor’s appointment to discuss some minor health concerns and to share my aspirations for the future. The urge to call him was overwhelming. We used to chat multiple times a day—sure, a lot of it was playful bickering, but he always stayed updated on my life. He was the first person I called after each prenatal check-up, excitedly sharing updates about my son, whom he affectionately nicknamed “Little Eight” after an early ultrasound that looked like the number eight. It’s hard to believe that the little one I constantly filled in about is now three years old, and that my dad missed his first birthday.
I find myself part of a large group of parents raising children without the guidance of their own mothers and fathers. My mother passed away in December 2008—just months after I graduated from college and got married. At only 50, she succumbed to liver failure from a lifelong struggle with alcoholism. In her last years, I kept a distance due to her addiction, but we made peace before she passed away. I was there when she took her final breath; just days prior, she voiced her regrets about not being more present in my life. She wished for a home, a dog, and a deep friendship with me. I reassured her that I turned out okay and asked if she thought I would be a good mom—she believed I would. Deep down, I wasn’t so sure, but I clung to that belief as best I could.
Less than two years later, on December 15, 2010, my father passed away at 70 due to kidney failure, heart issues, and more. He and my mom divorced when I was young, so my childhood was spent split between Arizona, Colorado, and his own world. While any struggles he faced with addiction were behind him by the time I was born, he was a complex man—both loving and challenging. We had our daily chats, often filled with arguments, but as I grew older, our bond strengthened. He managed to witness my college graduation and, although he missed my wedding, he did get to meet my son shortly before he died. I’m grateful my dad got to see Nicholas, my pride and joy, even if my father’s final months were chaotic as I juggled caring for a newborn and an ailing parent.
Nicholas was born between my parents’ deaths, marking my life with a cycle of loss and new beginnings. Amidst graduating, getting married, and settling into our first home, my husband and I have navigated more than I could have ever imagined. However, this piece is about parenting without parents, which can feel incredibly isolating. I can’t send my mom photos of Nicholas; I can’t call my dad to share his milestones. As he grows, his grandparents will be my in-laws, while mine will be a memory, a story of loss.
The challenge is further complicated by my mother’s struggles with addiction. I’m unsure how much she would have been involved, even if she were alive. My father had differing parenting philosophies and wouldn’t have been very hands-on either. So, what’s the point in dwelling on the “what ifs”? I intend to preserve their memories through photographs—images of my mom in her youth and my dad cradling Nicholas as a baby. I’ll share with my son that his grandpa lovingly called him “Little Eight” and that his grandma believed in me as a parent. I’ll also make sure he understands our family’s history with addiction, emphasizing the importance of being responsible and wise. Explaining death to a curious child? That’s a whole other challenge!
On a positive note, parenting without my parents (and being an only child) has opened doors for me to embrace love for both myself and my son. My in-laws are incredible grandparents living nearby, with my mother-in-law watching Nicholas several times a week and my father-in-law taking him on weekend adventures. My aunt, my mom’s sister, even suggested Nicholas could call her “grandma,” and she was there at his birth. He also has an aunt excited to take him to Disneyland, along with many honorary aunts and uncles who shower him with love and attention. While I can’t send snapshots of my son to my parents, my supportive friends and family receive daily updates on his antics. And when I need parenting advice, I turn to my mother-in-law.
Many children grow up without one or both sets of grandparents. For Nicholas, this will be his normal. My husband’s parents will fill the grandparent role, while my aunt, who calls herself “Mimi,” lives close to him and his cousins. The real challenge lies in accepting this reality for myself. Like all parenting journeys, it’s about embracing the hardships while being thankful for the hidden blessings.
Will my dad ever take Nicholas fishing? No. But he left behind a blue kids’ fishing pole that I’ll save for when the time is right. There’s also a pink one—because who knows what the future might hold.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the experience of raising children without the guidance of one’s own parents, detailing the writer’s personal journey of loss and love. It discusses the challenges of parenting without parental figures while highlighting the supportive roles of in-laws and family. The writer emphasizes the importance of preserving memories and accepting the reality of their parenting situation.
Keyphrase: parenting without parents
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