Timothy Kline: Thoughts and Reflections

Making tough decisions

In my previous entry, I touched on the subject of Choice, and how we as parents must allow our adult children to have their right of choice, but also to allow them to experience the consequences of their choices.

Since having written that, there have been some new developments that have led me to write this as a follow-up to that earlier entry.

As some of you may already be aware, I had the privilege of re-establishing contact with two of the daughters that I had been forced to allow to go to adoption some 19 years ago. Unfortunately, it has not gone well at all, and that is the motivation behind this particular entry as well.

People on both sides of the issue will argue whether a relationship that was interrupted by nearly two decades of connection and communication during the formative years of a child’s life can be rebuilt after the fact, or whether it must be redefined within the context of adulthood.

For me, I never ceased to feel and think within the bounds of fatherhood—but that was especially due to the fact that I was an adult and fully cognitive of my responsibilities, whereas the children involved had vague memories and an underlying sense of connection.

Yet when you factor in nearly two decades of time and space, and then bring those elements back together, you are left dealing with what the mind and heart remember, and what has developed in the interim. The children are no longer children: they are thinking, reasoning adults who have by then already started and been on a path that perhaps they might not have been, had the biological parent been there to coach them and teach them. The children by then have adopted the family values of the family that they have been adopted into, while at the same time having a certain amount of genetic predisposition towards certain decision-making skills and leanings of their biological parents. (And at this point, I am reasonably convinced that I would not have been able to make a difference for them had I raised them, because their issues, lying, and life choices are evidently hereditary and genetic and strongly from their mother’s lineage; as I have not yet met my third daughter, I do not know if she carries her biological mother’s tendencies, or mine. Still: that the two older girls developed to the point where they act and make the same life choices as their biological mother did—in the absence of their biological mother—is fascinating from a psychological point-of-view!)

I didn’t really become aware of this until after I met my biological daughters recently, after the nearly two-decade interim. My memories of them as innocent, beautiful children were just that: memories. The reality that I had to come to see, unfortunately, was far different.

While they are even more beautiful and precious than when I had last seen them those 19 years ago, they have exhibited characteristics that shattered my hopes and memories where they are concerned.

I think this past week, something in me finally said that enough was enough, and I realized that it was for the best that I step back from the situation and allow them to have their choices which they made it clear they want—especially since no amount of counsel and advice from me has been able to reach their hearts and I already know from personal experience where their paths will lead them as long as they remain on that path. And while my door is still open to them when and if they decide not to continue down the path of self-destruction, I can no longer continue walking alongside them down that path—or I risk everything I have worked so hard for in their absence.

I think, too, that the catalyst for deciding to step aside for them, was the incessant lies and back-biting. Having never been caught up in what some might term pathological lying, I guess I can’t wrap my head around the reasoning behind it. All I know is that it has led to constant edginess, worry, frustration and disappointment for me.

It is utterly heart-wrenching when you have a daughter, whom you haven’t seen since she was two years old, sitting across from you at a table, whom you want nothing less than to help her with anything—and she tells you what she knows you want to hear while in her heart she has other plans. And, of course, there have been many other things besides that which influenced my decision to withdraw and let her live her life—but I can’t decide whether I blame her for the lack of appreciation when something is offered for her betterment and she accepts it, but chooses to do her own thing and make decisions counter to her own betterment, essentially thumbing her nose at me; or, if I blame me for thinking that she would appreciate what it was that I was trying to do for her, to help her into a better life. She is the sum of her life at this point, and therefore is who she is and will remain so until she decides to make herself over into something else. I, on the other hand, could see the potential within her and was acting in accordance with that. If I were to continue in the situation, I would be continuing in the frustration that she and I have two very different ideas about who she is, and it is her right to have the final say and live how she wants to live.

I could go on at length covering the numerous other things going on with that daughter that are problematic—but the fact is that they are only problematic for me, not for her—otherwise, she would not be engaging in those things or situations. I want more for her and her life than she wants at the present time. So, I have to let her be the person she wants to be, and live the life she wants.

In the matter of my other daughter, it is very similar. Fatherly advice and counsel has fallen on deaf ears, assistance given has been shown to be unappreciated and held in disdain. And things that I had been told under the assumption that they were true have turned out to be quite the opposite, much to my dismay.

To say the least, there has been no sincere demonstration of apology from either of them: they are absolutely convinced that they have done and are doing nothing wrong. Which is perfectly fine: for them. Yet I know how it affects me, too. And personally, I do have a problem when I realize that I have been lied to, or at least deceived. Personally, I do have a problem seeing things that I provided them then be given away instead of being returned to the giver, or at least offered back. I do have a problem with finding that out and then having someone have the nerve to ask me if I can give them something else. I do have a problem with someone saying to my face that they are not going to allow themselves to be in another relationship until they finish their schooling and get their life together—and then do the exact opposite after I help them with things they “needed.” I do have a problem with someone blaming their boyfriend for the rent not being paid (they supposedly had given the rent money to their boyfriend, who then didn’t pay it to the landlord), and then they get evicted for nonpayment of rent and they run off with their boyfriend after signing away their rights to their children mere weeks before the court system was returning them. I do have a problem with a daughter who can’t stay away from other men and put her children first, even for a mere six months while her divorce is finalized. And really, the same could be said of my other daughter, who herself is married yet saw no problem with moving in and having a baby with another man. And yes, I do have a problem with being lied to, being used, being emotionally manipulated—not to mention being made to feel guilty when I don’t want to have anything to do with these types of people any further.

I do not hold these values in my life, and I do not tolerate them from other people. And to make an exception merely on the basis that these women are my biological daughters is simply not enough for me, because the tie that we had, the bond, is strictly biological at this point: I do not recognize either of these women beyond the physical semblances they bear to their mother’s side. Everything else is unfamiliar. The characteristics that they did inherit from me are evidently not strong enough at this point to override the rest. Maybe, in time, things will be different with them—I can’t see that far ahead, and I can’t stay a part of the daily drama, lying, and issues until that day comes. Or rather, I choose not to.

I’m not saying that my own life is perfect. I’m not saying that every choice I have made or currently make or will make will be right. But what I am saying is that I see no point in watching them ruin their lives or standing beside while they do. I am not God. If they want to live the lives they want to live, I must allow them to do so. And they need to allow me to let them, by my stepping aside—because really, there is no room for me in their life anyhow. Not at the present time.

Should they ever come to realize what it was that I wanted for them, and truly appreciate what I was trying to do for them, and they should ever come to want it even more than I want it for them, I will be here.

But not forever.

In the meantime, I can only wish them the best.