I know a little something about guilt. And I’ve erred more on the Velcro side of life. I learned how to harness guilt the old fashion way – 12 years of Catholic school and the DNA trait to savor a fresh batch of guilt like a fine filet mignon dinner. Guilt is taught and bred and I was a good student.
But Single Mom Guilt is like regular guilt, on steroids. My son is the unfortunate recipient of divorce. With my parents still happily married after 51 years, and my brother for 25 years, I wanted “that” for my kid. My aspirations did not go according to plan. Start layering the guilt.
When my son hears his friends or cousins talking about an upcoming summer family vacation, he looks at me with longing and asks, “Will we ever be able to go on a vacation?” Ouch. With job lose from a single income and mounting debt, a vacation is a foreign concept. Although I have childhood memories of our family vacations, I can’t provide the same for my son. Add another layer of guilt. Continue reading