I was so excited on that day in March when I became an aunt. I was truly touched when you and my brother, before witnesses in your church, made her my Goddaughter as well. Then life happened, as it often does, and you found yourself a single mother. Like me.
Before I get to the heart of the matter, let me tell you about my brother. My brother has a genuine heart. He prizes honesty above all other traits in his fellow human beings. He has always been organized, practically living the mantra "a place for everything and everything in its place." He is the family comedian, full of light, joy, and has a witty line for almost every situation. He is a good father, doting, affectionate, appropriately stern when needed, fair and hopelessly in love with that child. The only crime my brother has ever committed was to fall in love with a woman who, with her rich and powerful family behind her, would seek to break him down and bury him beneath a twisted and broken system for her own self satisfaction.
My brother has found himself in the very unfortunate circumstance of being of the male persuasion in a state that favours the mother so heavily, it's a wonder good fathers ever get to see their young at all. It is a system that plays in my favour. One that I could have manipulated and used it many times over to gain revenge on my son's father for all of the wrongs he did to me. I could have wrung him dry. I could have fed him to the wolves of a biast system and watched them tear his heart out. The judge would have handed it to me on a silver platter, without even blinking, with an offer for more should I ever want it. But I didn't.
My child is not a pawn. My child is not a tool to be used to further my own agenda. My child did not need to be punished for the sins of his father. So, I grew up. Without a single penny in the seven years since we went our separate ways, without playing games with the courts, we marched on. I have never denied my son's father the right to visit whenever he is able. Never once have I denied him the chance to take his son out for the day. Never once has he been denied the time to spend with my son on holidays, trips, or even most of the summer vacations. It was not without tears of frustration on my end. Knowing that while I put the roof over his head, the food in his stomach, make and enforce the rules, force him to do homework and every other thing a mother does, his father, who does none of the above, was the hero in my son's eyes. But sacrificing your hurt feelings for the well being of the child who loves both parents is our job. It's called being a mother.
It is a lesson you, my young friend, have not learned. You choose instead to hide behind the money your parents provide and slander my brother's name. You drag him to court on lies and bitterness without any thought or feeling as to how it will affect your daughter. You and your family see my brother as your own personal bank machine and you want him to pay dearly for his mistake: making a child with you. You put her in day care, that your parents pay for, on days you don't work because you "deserve a break from parenting." Your parents pay for everything for you and still you seek more, knowing full well that your own instability means nothing in this game you play. You stand there in court with lies dripping from your lips like honey and the judges are all too happy to lap it up, ignoring the tears in my brother's eyes.
As a single mother myself, you sicken me. The system disgusts me. It robs good decent men from the chance to be loving fathers to their children. You take their money even if it means leaving them struggling to survive but where is the accountability? How do we know the money hard working men send to those kids is being used for the child and not for Mommy's new wardrobe or to the wine she favours? We don't and the system does not care.
So now I stand watching. Watching you crushing my brother's spirit. I am sickened. As one single mother to another, let me tell you a little secret. Your daughter is so lucky to have a father like him. Even at her tender young age, she knows it too. What lies will you try to tell her when she asks the questions she already knows the answers to? I can promise you that kids see more than you think they do. What will your daughter see when she looks at you?
