A Parent’s Reflection on Estrangement and Family Connections

My children have never met their grandfather because I have not seen him for 21 years. My 9-year-old son juggles three baseball teams. Managing uniforms, drop-offs, and equipment keeps me on my toes. Preparing for games includes packing coolers, chairs, and crafts for his 6-year-old sister. Watching him play fills me with mixed emotions. When he succeeds, I imagine the joy my dad experienced watching me. Yet, I always feel an absence—one less person to share those moments with.

I imagine spotting my dad in the crowd, but it is always a mirage. My dad’s love for baseball connected us deeply. He was my guide through every game, offering support and encouragement. Everything changed when my parents divorced after 18 years. At 19, I received an email from my dad that shattered our bond: “Have a nice life. I love you, but I won’t ever see you again.” The absence creates questions about how my kids might perceive him if they met.

I ponder if my children sense the void. Do their pleas for attention echo the gap? Are they aware of my struggles when I receive unsettling messages? There is no guidebook on explaining estrangement to children. The path to healing from a family rift is daunting. Experts admit resources for coping with estrangement are still emerging.

According to a 2022 YouGov poll, 29 percent of Americans experience estrangement from a close family member. My son never questions my dad’s absence; he sees no photos of him. Signs of my dad linger in mementos like my childhood baseballs or a glove inscribed with my maiden name.

My son recognizes PopPop, my mother’s husband, as a grandfather. He embodies the role with joy and kindness. In my mind, I’ve envisioned countless conversations explaining my dad. I picture telling them about his role in my life and his eventual distance. Although they’re young, my kids possess empathy, and I wonder how they’ll react.

Questions about my dad could surface: “Will you talk to him again?” or “Where does he live?” My answers would be honest. Determining the right time to share the truth weighs on me. I question if shielding them from this conversation makes me a better parent or if it is my own fear.

When approached in their innocence, my children remind me not to overthink. Comments like, “Are PopPop and Nana coming to my game tonight?” ground me. They are surrounded by family who celebrates them. Life isn’t perfect, but the void they aren’t aware of is filled.

As I clean my son’s cleats, I reflect on their fulfilled lives. I wonder if I will feel complete without my dad. Brianna Alcorn is crafting a memoir about the challenges of parental estrangement, offering hope to others experiencing similar struggles. Her views in this piece are personal reflections.