Today was particularly tough as I found myself missing my dad more than usual. I had a doctor’s appointment where I discussed some minor health concerns and shared my hopes for the future. The urge to call him and fill him in was overwhelming. We used to have daily conversations—most of which involved playful arguing—but he was always up to date on my life. During my pregnancy, he was the first person I called after every check-up. He affectionately nicknamed my son Evan “Ocho” after an early ultrasound where he resembled the number eight. It’s surreal to think that the baby I shared updates about with my dad just celebrated his third birthday without him being there for the first.
Like many others, I’m navigating the challenges of parenting without the guidance of my own parents. My mother passed away on December 13, 2008, just months after I graduated from college and got married. She was only 50 and succumbed to liver failure after a long struggle with alcoholism. While I distanced myself from her during her battle, we reconciled before her death. I was there when she took her last breath, and just days before, she expressed her regrets about not being there for me enough and her desire for a different life. I reassured her that I had turned out okay and asked her if she thought I would be a good mom. She believed in me, though I had my doubts.
Almost exactly two years later, on December 15, 2010, my dad passed away at the age of 70 due to kidney failure, heart issues, and a host of other ailments. My parents divorced when I was younger than my son is now, resulting in a childhood split between Arizona, Colorado, and his own struggles. While he had overcome his addictions by the time I was born, he was a complex figure—both loving and harsh. We had our share of arguments, but as I matured, our bond strengthened. He attended my college graduation and, while he missed my wedding, he did meet Evan, who is truly the light of my life. Dad moved back to Arizona shortly before he passed, and I am grateful that he had the chance to meet his grandson.
Evan was born during a time of profound change in my life—death, life, and more death. Amid significant milestones like graduating college, getting married, and purchasing our first home, my husband and I have faced more challenges than I can count. However, the focus here is parenting without parents.
Parenting without my own mom and dad is an isolating experience. I can’t share photos of Evan with my mom, nor can I call my dad to share his latest milestones. As Evan grows, his grandparents will be my husband’s parents while mine will be a distant memory. Sure, my mom’s struggles with addiction lead me to question how involved she would have been, and my dad’s health issues meant he would have had a different approach to parenting. But dwelling on the “what-ifs” doesn’t serve me now. I aim to keep their memories alive through pictures—showing Evan images of a vibrant young woman who was my mom and a strong man who was his grandpa. I’ll tell him about the love they had for him, how his grandpa nicknamed him “Ocho,” and that his grandma would have adored him. I also plan to make him aware of our family’s history of addiction while ensuring he understands the importance of responsibility and smart choices. Explaining death to a curious child? That’s a challenge for another day!
On a positive note, parenting without my parents—or any siblings, for that matter—has taught me to accept love on behalf of myself and my son. My in-laws are incredible grandparents, living just a short walk away. My mother-in-law often babysits, while my father-in-law enjoys weekend adventures with Evan to the children’s museum. Additionally, my aunt (my mother’s sister) has embraced her role as “grandma” since Evan was just weeks old, and he looks forward to trips to Disneyland with his aunt, my husband’s sister. While I can’t share daily updates with my parents, my loving family and friends are always eager for snapshots of Evan’s every move. When I need parenting advice, my first call is to his G-Ma.
Many children grow up without one or both grandparents, and Evan will see this as his normal. His grandparents will be my husband’s parents, and my aunt will fill a special role in his life. The real struggle lies in my acceptance of this new normal. Like all parenting journeys, this one requires embracing the darker moments while being thankful for the unexpected blessings.
Will my dad ever take Evan fishing? No, but he left behind a blue kids’ fishing pole that I plan to bring out when the time is right. There’s even a pink one because, you never know what the future holds.
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In summary, parenting without my parents is a journey filled with both longing and joy. While their absence is felt deeply, I am determined to create a loving environment for Evan, enriched by the memories of those who came before him.