Responsibilities and obligations

TODAY I’m packing and planning for a long weekend on the road.

Soon I’ll be making the 1,000-mile journey to coastal Mississippi, with an overnight stop with family in central Arkansas. At the end of that trek, I’ll get to meet briefly with my son, and watch him receive his high school diploma.

We are practically strangers to each other now. At best, I’m like a distant uncle. In past years he expressed resentment at being stuck with my last name, while his mother had that of his stepfather. I don’t know if he still feels that way, but since he is over 18, there’s nothing I could do to stop him changing his name to his stepfather’s, his mother’s maiden name or to Rumplestiltskin, for that matter.

A relationship doesn’t turn this way overnight. We struggled with staying connected, me being involved with his life, when we only lived a couple of hours apart. Since I moved northward several years ago, then he and the parents who raised him moved further southward, losing touch completely seemed inevitable.

Especially with the conflicts his mother and I so often had, starting just a year into the divorce.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, I thought we had an agreement.

When I told Kathy* about my cancer, and the treatment, and how while I wouldn’t lose my job the worktime I lost would be unpaid, I told her I would be unable some weeks to send child support.

She said she understood, and wouldn’t make a big deal of it. I could pay more once I was finally working fulltime again. Besides our son was living mainly with his aunt and grandmother (who were also very understanding of my situation) while Kathy and her husband were getting home and job settled after moving to the Memphis area.

Then the letter came.

I was being sued for back child support. Feeling betrayed, I called Kathy. She said she had no choice, that it came up while making a mortgage application or something. She hoped I’d understand.

As the state of Arkansas understood it, since I had no written agreement or court order to suspend support, I owed and had to start paying immediately – present weekly payments plus arrears.

Since I couldn’t afford to pay support, I certainly couldn’t afford a lawyer to fight this. And by the letter of the law, I really did owe and was completely obligated to pay. And, to be honest, I did feel obligated, and did want to pay. It’s just that my bank account with hardly anything in it wouldn’t let me.

So the order came down, from the Office of Child Support Enforcement. Child support plus an amount towards arrears would be deducted directly from my paycheck, week after week, month after month, for the rest of the boy’s childhood.

Between this and insurance and other regular deductions, I had to work at least three days a week to make any money for myself. This wasn’t always possible. On short weeks, the amount of child support paid was reduced to a percentage of what little I was making, with the balance of what I owed (the obligation never reduced) being added to the arrears amount.

I can still remember sitting there with my 20-30-something dollar pay stub while taking a call from Kathy berating me for holding out on her because she got a reduced payment. I don’t think she actually accused me of being greedy, but it was in her tone.

Even putting health issues aside, those were not easy days. Fortunately our hobbies were based on books that were inexpensive and easily shared among the group. Movies were bargain rentals and matinees. Name-brand soda, name brand any food, was a luxury. Ground turkey 1-pound chubs for 69 cents at Wal-Mart were about the only meat we could afford.

Between a doting aunt, two grandmothers, his stepfather's grandparents, and of course, his mother and stepfather, the boy wanted for nothing. I took comfort in this, in that while there was only so much I could pay, my shortcomings didn’t affect his wellbeing.

He has been well cared for in all the years since, in spite of his mother’s frequent insistence that I’m irresponsible and a failure in living up to my obligations.

Perhaps I have been. I think that final judgment will be in the mind and life of a young man who I may never see again after Sunday. I will live with the verdict.

I know this seems to go a bit off-topic, away from the cancer fight. But this was a major way that my struggle was with more than the disease. In spite of my life going on hold while I took time out for chemo, the bills kept coming in. Rent had to be paid, creditors didn’t care what my circumstances were. The ripples of this disturbance in my life flowed outward, taking years to dissipate. My child support obligation ended this month; as for my responsibilities, time will tell.

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*Not her real name

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