Who could have called it!?

“Dad, why aren’t you and mom together?”

That question hasn’t come my way yet, but it will. It’s inevitable.

I expect our son to have natural questions about why his mom and dad aren’t together. I have ideas about what I will eventually tell him. One thing I find great pleasure in, and I hope he will, too, is, his initials, A & E. That’s how his mom and I signed everything we wrote to each other. It stands for Always & Eternally. I hope that he is able to find some comfort in knowing that, just because his mom and dad aren’t together, he is here because there was a time that his mom and dad loved each other very much.

My name is Jerry Hermanson. I am a very fortunate and grateful, single dad.

Every story has a beginning. So, we might as well start from day one.

My son’s mom and I met for the first time, almost 10 years ago. We worked together, and it was one of those instant attraction scenarios. The problem was, she was 24, living with her 31 year old, 6’2” / 255 lbs, 21” bicep, All-American College Linebacker, weight lifting competitor, Brian Urlacher look alike, boyfriend. And, I was, well … 21.

Despite her relationship, we were attracted to each other from her first day on the job, and we started seeing each other within a couple weeks of her starting at the company we worked at. I can’t say, looking back, I would have done anything differently. The feelings her and I shared, were real, very real, and strong, very strong.

This went on for about 6 months, until the circumstances began to take a toll, on both of us.

We worked for a “dotcom”, and this was during the “dotcom” boom. Shortly before the company we worked for went under, I moved on, to what I considered at the time, my dream job, being a part of the construction of the new Seahawks Stadium. And, the future mother of my child, stayed with her boyfriend. So, that was pretty much it. We went our separate ways.

As time went by, it was obvious that we thought about one another. A few months after we had last seen or talked to each other, she called. It happened to be New Year’s Eve. Though I was out with friends, including a girl I had started seeing shortly prior, we stayed on the phone until one of my batteries died, and I had to replace it with another. A month-in-a-half went by before she called again. Not coincidently, it was the one year anniversary of our first date. Not Valentine’s Day, but the day before Valentine’s Day.

The next day, Valentine’s Day, 2001, is a one that I will never forget. I could write an entire chapter on that story alone. Lesson learned: 2 girls + 1 Valentine’s Day = Disaster. “Oh, com’n, give me a break, I was 22!”

In short, she and I did see each other a few times over the span of the following couple weeks, but that was it. It was kept on a friendship level, nothing further. Neither she nor I were interested in going back in time. And, somehow, for reasons I will never understand, the girl whom I was seeing, that didn’t have a boyfriend (except me), stayed with me for a few more months.

One day, in the span of those couple weeks, was a moment that I will always reflect on.  As it was a huge part of where I am today.

So, let’s side step for a second.

Growing up, my grandma and grandpa quit drinking when I was 9 years old. My mom and dad quit when I was 11. I was made aware of the disease of alcoholism at an early age, but “the program” was never shoved down my throat. I don’t have any negative memories of any of my family members, drinking. All I really remember, as a kid, were big parties at my grandpa’s beach house.

Now back to the story.

Up to that point in my life, I had done my own fair share of partying. I had gotten into a decent amount of trouble. Fortunately, though there were close calls, no real legal trouble.

However, I had reached a point, where I knew my days with drugs and alcohol were close to being over. I hadn’t said anything to anyone, and I don’t think I consciously knew, but somewhere inside, I knew.

And, now back to the day in late February, 2001.

My son’s mom and I were at my place, talking about things. It was a good conversation about life, and we reached a point in our talk where we were discussing some of the things I was struggling with. My drug and alcohol abuse was a major topic. At one point, she said, “well, maybe you should do something about that”. Or, maybe it was, “You need to do something about that!” I can’t remember her exact words, and it really doesn’t matter. I just remember exactly where we were and what we talked about. She remembers, too!

Now, I don’t know for sure, but that very well could have been one of the last times her and I spoke for more than a year-in-a-half.

But that was it! That was the moment I always look back to. It’s very bittersweet for me. It wasn’t the only reason I quit drinking, but nonetheless, it played a part. I didn’t know it at the time. Looking back now though, I find it very ironic that she and I had such a candid conversation about this, and her words were able to help me in many ways. Ironic because, well, we’ll get into that another time.

A few weeks later, after I had left Seattle with, let’s just say, a lot of marijuana, and put about 4,000 miles on my car, including a lengthy stop in Las Vegas, a little jaunt to Boulder, Colorado, back to Vegas, a stop in Indian Wells, CA, and then most of the California Coast, from San Diego to Eureka, I returned to Seattle, and entered a drug and alcohol rehabilitation facility, at the age of 22.

It just so happens, that it was the same facility my parents had gone to about 12 years earlier.

That was March 23, 2001, and I am proud to say that I have been free of alcohol and drugs ever since.

I should add: Eventually, one day, about a year-in-a-half after I got sober, out of the blue, I recieved a call from my son’s mom. In the time that we had not spoken to each other, her and her boyfriend had moved to California. She called me when she had come home to visit her mom, for her mom’s birthday. She never returned to Southern California. 

Today is September 24^th, 2009. 8 ½ years have passed since the day I got sober. Our son is 19 months old. He has lived with me full-time since May 16^th, 2008, when he was 3 months old. The custody case was just finalized a little over a month ago.  So, I am still early on in this whole parenting odyssey.

Over the years, I have found that there are a lot of single parents that don’t have a problem with drugs or alcohol. On the flip side, there are a lot of single parents that are single parents because of drugs and alcohol. In my particular case, when all of the finger pointing is said and done, I choose to believe there is only one reason that our son lives with me: because I don’t drink or do drugs.

If you are reading this, chances are, you care about being a parent. Most of you are either a single mom, or a single dad. No matter if you’re young, mature, rich, or poor… chances are, you care about being a good parent.

When this opportunity came my way, thanks to Bill, Founder of www.singledadstown.com, I was nervous. I have never contributed to a blog before. It is a little out of my comfort zone to open myself up. Not only to my friends and family, but to anyone, and I mean anyone, that could read this. If there is one thing I have consistently found enjoyment in over the years, its writing. So, I look at this as an opportunity to get back to putting my thoughts on record, sharing my experiences over the years, what I have learned from those experiences, and how I hope to use my experiences to help me be the best dad I can, to our son. And, maybe some of you will get from those experiences, what I’ve gotten from www.singledadstown.com, and reading Bill’s story: “You don’t have to do this alone!”

I look forward to our journey together!

Sincerely,

Jerry A. Hermanson