Father's Day and the Divorced Dad

No one ever imagines parenthood through the prism of having half-custody of their child. But with nearly 2/3 of all marriages ending in divorce, and the average Florida marriage lasting just over 10 years, it is a reality that many of us will have to face. There is, however, good news for dads in that societal norms and evolving shared custody laws have brought them an equality that was once sorely lacking. This Father's Day, I'm enjoying life with my son, grateful that I live in a time and place where dads have finally come to be seen as equally valuable in the day to day role of raising children.

In the seven years since his mother and I divorced, my son Sullivan and I have been through a lot, including both good times and bad. In the early days, we spent a few unforgettable years holed up in a small, beachfront bungalow on Siesta Key. There were lots of long walks on the beach, as his clumsy, two-year old waddle across the sand was usually all I needed to brighten even the darkest of days. There were seaside barbeques and morning cereal on the steps of the lifeguard shack before they came on duty. Sunset was a ritual and videogames, or even cable television, were nowhere to be found.

The real estate crash had provided us with a previously-unthinkable chance to live in paradise, up close and personal with sand between our toes and smiles on our sun-colored faces. We rode the receding wave for as long as we could, but eventually had to move back over the bridge, a couple of salty mainlanders who were relegated to weekend excursions, the torture of drawbridges and challenged public parking.

Photo by Brian David Braun

Today we live out in Northwest Bradenton, in another small bungalow, just a short and scenic drive to our favorite beach, where we spend every spare moment we can muster. We've logged countless firsts and have already forged a lifetime worth of memories. We've driven across country every summer of his life, seen the plains of Texas, the mountains of Colorado, the halls of the U.S. Capitol, and the view from the top of the Empire State Building. We've kissed Lady Liberty, walked the jazz-filled streets of New Orleans, explored the cemeteries of Savannah, met the ducks at the Peabody in Memphis, and been to a hundred baseball games if we've been to one. He remains the love of my life and the best friend I've ever known.

I've wanted to be a father for as long as I can remember and no joy has ever approached the moment when my first and only son entered into the world, early one St. Patrick's Day morning. His mother had to have an emergency Caesarian 17 hours into labor, and so his first three hours were spent squeezing my finger and looking into the eyes of the guy with the voice he recognized as the one that had been reading through the wall of his womb from the time I found out he was there.

I was instantly beset by visions of all that we would do together and though we've accomplished each one and more, having to later accept that I would only get to see my child for half of his life was the hardest thing I ever had to do and something I still struggle with. It bares noting that I honestly think we spend more quality time together than might be the case otherwise, my somewhat flexible career allowing me to work feverishly when he's away and avoid things like after school or summer daycare. My son's nine and doesn't know what a babysitter is. He comes with me to work on stories, where he's always expected to ask at least one question in an interview and has even helped out by snapping the occasional photo. I also take care of him when he's sick, read bedtime stories and kiss boo boos the same as a mother would.

If our divorce had happened 20 years earlier, this might not be our story. Our society's long history of sexual inequality in the workplace has had another less-examined impact on familial roles. As lower pay and fewer career opportunities left women less capable of providing financially, it also reinforced the notion that a father's role was primarily one of provider. After a divorce, there seemed to be a thinking that the women would be best off taking care of the kids, while the father worked hard to make sure everyone had enough resources to get by. The economic model of the mother being primary custodian, while the father received visitation rights and a child-support bill was, at least on the surface, easier to manage.

While divorce was certainly no picnic for a newly single mom at that time, a father could usually count on seeing his kids only intermittently and within the context of a strained relationship in which his absence was often the source of tremendous resentment. As inequality left single mothers quite vulnerable, there was also often an economic incentive to remarry, meaning a divorced dad could now count on another man seeing his children even more than he did.

Once divorce became more accessible and common, it didn't take long to realize that child development was deeply affected by relationships with both parents and that while divorce is a traumatizing experience to be sure, the best possible outcomes were more likely achieved when every effort to keep both parents in the child's life had been made. Florida, which does not exactly have a reputation as a socially progressive state, has made shared parenting a priority. Today, any fit father can generally count on securing the status of an equal co-parent with 50 percent shared custody after a divorce–though efforts to make that the official starting point have continued to stall.

According to the Forest Institute of Professional Psychology, 50 percent of first marriages, 67 percent of second and 74 percent of third marriages today end in divorce. I don't think anyone would argue that such data is not a positive commentary on our society. But I don't think that anyone who ever grew up in a house where two parents should have been divorced, but were prevented by social or economic constraints, would advocate that environment either. I won't pretend to know why we're doing such a bad job in terms of keeping families together, but for both my son's sake and my own, I'm grateful on this Father's Day that we're doing a better job when they come apart.

Dennis Maley is a featured columnist for The Bradenton Times. His column appears each Thursday and Sunday. Dennis' debut novel, A Long Road Home, was released in July, 2015. Click here to order your copy.