Sons and Cadillacs: An Unplanned Journey Through Single Fatherhood

By Vinny Ferranello

Going through a family breakup with children is a tremendous event in itself. Sons and Cadillacs is a heartwarming story about a father who had no idea how to manage through such a change let alone be a successful single parent. Prioritizing being a great dad and relying on a wonderful family, the best of friends, and two beautiful children, he was not only able to progress but endure. Finding joy with the people around him and a feeling of pride and success with his Cadillac, a favorite material possession and cultural icon for him, he managed the difficult change and started a new life. The story shows how failure in marriage is not a failure in parenting or life, just a new direction requiring an ongoing journey--one that is much easier when managed without anger or tumult. Once realized, the path to enlightenment progresses.

Sons and Cadillacs takes the reader through the events of a new life and also the events that led to there. With real-life examples based on successes and temporary failures that include both warm and comical anecdotes, great lessons can be learned that will translate to anyone experiencing such an event. Through this journey, these elements are shared with the purpose of not only entertainment but to attach the audience to personal growth. A must-read for anyone going through a family breakup, especially with children, this book shows how we can manage through it while ensuring everyone turns out just fine and wonderful in the end. Happiness is not just a destination; it is also an important state of mind--one we all deserve.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662422461

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Sons and Cadillacs

An Unplanned Journey Through Single Fatherhood

Vinny Ferranello

Copyright © 2022

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-2245-4 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-2246-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Foreword

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

Afterword

About the Author

Cadillacs

Sons

And

Dedicated to my family, children and friends. All of whom helped me through a challenge, change, and transformation to a better place and a better state of mind. I love and cherish you all.

Thank you.

Foreword

This is about a journey of how a major change in life can be managed with the right support and soul-searching that allow us to not only recover but endure and find our true place. If you can learn to enjoy the journey, you will be better prepared to confirm that you are on the right path and find happiness in your destination. I truly learned a lot about myself through this process which has made me a better human indeed. Transitioning from a married life that had numerous challenges regarding two good people who were just not good for each other to single fatherhood and to an awakening of finding the things that lead to joy is indeed a complex event in itself. However, I found the way not only to cope but to prosper. Learning about ourselves through challenging times drives us to realize what we are capable of and how we can find and accept the all-important happiness we all need and deserve.

This story which took the course of over a few years to complete had several revisions. Then, I sat on it for a while to put some distance between the events and how they relate to the depicted characters. When I shared the first draft with close friends, they urged me to go back and make changes. Many thoughts written in the moment were downright depressing and just not enough of a representation of the person in which they see in me today. They were correct, and the right edits improved the flow and showed a true perspective of my personal growth. The flow of the read is sometimes in my own cultural Italian speak, as it appears the way I talk with my hands finds its way into the text with occasional run-on sentences and abrupt prepositions. If you know an Italian or have seen one on TV, you will understand. In addition, and perhaps against editing advice and protocol, there are many alternations between past and present tense since I wrote this both as events happened and also in reflection. Many of the chapters generally started and closed with writing as events, experiences, and thoughts were current or recent. At times, the past is left in the present format in order to strengthen my intention for any reader to feel the moment exactly as I did and transcend into the timeframe of the narration.

This project is not intended to be a rant about a divorce or just the pain of transition. Going back also allowed me to put things in a more enlightened manner focusing on the journey itself in a more objective approach. Most of it is based on true events, with some embellishments on items I will disclaim to avoid future concerns. It may also be more from a man's perspective, but I think it applies to all who have gone through this type of event. I am hoping that is exactly how it comes across and can relate to similar challenges that many people experience. Hopefully, it has legs and will help others who face a similar or relatable story in their lives in a beneficial way. If I can do it, we all can.

1

Fathers' Day

The morning started out like every other parenting-off Sunday for the previous few months. An early three-mile bicycle ride to the local bagel shop, an order for the usual Nova/lox on bagel sandwich (all the way including the capers), a coffee, and a paper. I sat outside to listen to music and slowly enjoyed the delicacy in the morning sun and read. When done, I packed the paper in my backpack and headed for the next three miles to home. According to my fitness app, I burned almost enough calories to cover half the meal. It is a great way to start a Sunday morning and was the biweekly routine I had embraced ever since I agreed sadly to leave my former family home. I still enjoy this traditional and cultural breakfast outside as I read even though I am not Jewish but rather full-blooded Italian. Yet I am quite willing to admit this is my favorite breakfast food. The key to a perfect Nova/lox on bagel sandwich is, of course, the capers—somewhat of an Italian contribution. An everything (ET) bagel slightly toasted also with lite cream cheese, onion, lettuce, and tomato makes the perfect combination with coffee and the Sunday paper. Even though print is a dying breed, I prefer this old school media especially after twenty years in corporate retail. The circulars, as our parents called them, are a way for merchants to showcase their best goods and clever promotions. For years this Sunday ritual or comp shopping was how we flexed our muscles and compare our efforts to the competition in the business. While I am no longer working with stores but rather commercial business to business products or b2b, I still enjoy it. The routine is a rewarding hour to start the Sundays when I am without my two beloved sons.

Cycling was something I took up to get some much-needed exercise. Nearly ten years ago I purchased a good quality beach cruiser from a bike store when I had the benefit of extra cash. It was my last selfish purchase made before the first of my two sons was born where financial priorities change. While I am certainly not the guy you see in spandex and aero helmet riding in the street at the speed of cars yet, I can do a good ten-mile ride regularly. Good thing as my weight has always been a challenge, and riding is a consistent activity I do to help. I need to do more especially after recent self-awareness and changes in life. Knowing the high point of my day to see my boys would be a few hours away, I went home to sit and relax for too long while flipping channels or watching HGTV.

My new home has certain typical man-cave characteristics. For one, it could get dark with all the blinds closed and especially with the deep earth tones I painted the walls and two, with the big-screen TV facing a large wraparound sectional. While very nice and comfortable, it could be viewed as somewhat plain and needing a woman's touch. After resting on the couch and still many hours away from the time I would see my boys, I decided to do something productive. A good cleaning of two and a half bathrooms was in order. I am more on the neat side than slob, at least for guy standards. With three stems in the house, a good commode cleaning is quite often necessary. I cleaned the dried-up toothpaste splatter on the mirror (a common occurrence with use of sonic toothbrushes) and the sinks. Then, on to the kitchen. My trick is to first use prepacked wipes on the counters, appliances, and cabinets. Then, I fill a clean stopped sink bay with pine or lemon cleaner and hot water. I wipe everything down again with a clean rag and the solution and then leave the sink undrained for the day. The smell of clean will fill the house. After mopping the floors, this phase of my day filler was complete.

Next, I looked at tile samples I'd collected, as remodeling the master bathroom was the next project on the list for my new home. When you buy a property that has spent years as a rental, you pretty much need to update everything. After changing all the flooring, painting, and remodeling the kitchen, my own sanctuary in the form a great master bath seemed like a well-deserved upgrade to my new home, a three-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath, two-car garage townhouse. It is not the five-bedroom, three-bath, three-car garage pool home and dream house that I gave up earlier in the year, but it would do well—for now. After looking and planning the space, it was finally time to shower and get ready for the highlight of the day, seeing my sons on Father's Day. Since their mother and I were three months into our custody schedule and new at this, it seems we did not have our sons on the right Sundays for both Mother's Day and Father's Day. A few weeks earlier, for emotional reasons I believe, their mother visited for only a short while to open the gift I enabled our boys to give her with several hugs. Despite my invitation to stay for dinner, she graciously declined—too awkward. For future years, regardless of whose weekend it would be, I suggested, and she agreed to get these days right.

I still had the gate access to my old community programmed in the first visor button. I drove slowly down the street. It was awkward to say the least. Some folks looked, some knew. One neighbor did call me about a month earlier to ask where I had been, anticipating the news I told him. Good luck, you will be all right and call me if you need to talk was where we left it. Parking in the driveway closest to the front door and not my usual spot was awkward because my car was now in the obvious guest area and not in front of its former garage. At least I drove with pride down the block in my shiny new car and latest material pride, my Cadillac consolation prize procured as planned before the separation. Walking up to the front door, it hit me. Even though I still had a key to the separate homes which both parents kept for emergencies and convenience, I should not use it anymore. It hurts to not be a part of your old home, the house you built for the family you created.

After knocking and responding to a little voice asking, Who is it? the sound of Daddy in stereo made it all better as they opened the door. The boys quickly gathered their gift, a thoughtful high-end umbrella they wanted to give me as two weeks earlier I lost one when I took them out to a kids' event. I worked on a puzzle with them as my still sister and father-in-law were there and also engaged with the work. They did treat me well and it was not awkward to be around them, actually less awkward than with my still legal wife who went outside to do yard work. As I was completing the play session with my boys, she came back in. It was sort of her cue as her sister was close to completing dinner. I used the bathroom and came out to say goodbye. My youngest asked why I was not staying for dinner. I really did not have an answer other than this is a dinner for Grandpa. He then followed with But Aunty' said you may be staying? meaning she asked her sister while I was in the other room to which the answer was obviously no. So, I told him that I had plans and had to go, would not have been prudent anyway. Feeling awkward and denied, I hugged them both and went on my way holding back tears. Being a dad is my favorite thing in the world, and this was one of the most painful moments of my recent journey from separation to the upcoming divorce. Now it is an official add to our parenting plan (a court ordered document between divorced parents) to ensure we can have them each for Mother's and Father's days respectively so neither of us will feel this way again.

As I left my old neighborhood, I contemplated where I should go for dinner and settled on a nice bar and grill near my new house only three miles away. I did not have the gumption to sit there and eat alone yet, so I sat down at the bar for a beer and ordered takeout linguine and red clam sauce. It was a good call as I just needed to be around people for the moment. Being an extrovert, I get energy from being around other people. Introverts like my still legal wife get their energy from being alone. There were just enough people there as most dads were home with their kids, where I should have been in my original life plan. After I savored my beer, I took my bag of food and went home to dine. With a glass of fine Chianti to accompany the pasta and watching another HGTV show, I ate alone. After dinner I went on another bike ride, five miles to get off some of the carbs at least. It was sunset now and with good music coming from my iPhone, it was a nice way to close the daylight. Next, I finished laundry and made the bed. Laundry is the one major domestic task I have not mastered—specifically folding. In the past, while I did a lot of the cleaning, my wife did all the laundry. With three males, it was probably close to even. Now my T-shirts and my boys' clothes are always clean but, after poor folding attempts, still look wrinkled. However, I am working on it.

This is the point where I started writing. Never would I consider myself an author but something has compelled me to start documenting my thoughts as I take my own journey through this change. I can only hope it will help to inspire someone else whether they can directly relate or not. Nearly all the single parenting stories are about women, and rightly so, as men were historically greater culprits of family demise. Not in my case. I can say I tried my best for my spouse and family. Though certainly far from perfect, I did not commit any of the usual or obvious deal-breaker sins. So, while this story may be from a man's perspective, it is certainly applicable and somewhat of a tribute to all single parents. At the very least, it is therapeutic and helpful to me. After completing this first step, a good hot shower was next and then to bed in freshly laundered sheets. There is no better way to sleep. We will see what tomorrow brings, always.

2

The Flawlessly Executed Divorce

I am not sure how possible it is to miss something that was never really there. When Elaine, my wife of fifteen years, told me her intentions in April 2013, I was not entirely surprised. Nevertheless, I was very torn up about it from a family demise perspective. I just returned from my parent's house a few hours north where I took the kids for spring break. She needed some time to herself and to catch up on her professional certification tests online. It was during this break she decided it was time to inform me that she did not want to be a full-time mother or anytime wife, at least not mine. I come from a world where the expectation is to continue on especially when children are involved. This is my Italian culture, and I was sticking to it despite my own concerns. I quickly decided that I would try to repair our marriage and become the man she needed me to be or at least go down with a fight. I was also disappointed for eighteen months earlier I asked her to go to counseling, as she was frequently angry with me and herself too. I made the proclamation that we seemed not to be in love after years of marriage and nearly twenty years in a relationship. I was tired of the tension yet guilty myself for not putting her top of mind enough. She then quickly affirmed our need to manage together as we were tied to the kids and to each other financially. It would make more sense to work on things on our own. We stated we would work on our issues. This was a win for me at that time as I did feel comfortable being married and in my large dream house with two wonderful kids. Unfortunately, we never did.

Although my wife never did feel I understood how she thinks, she underestimated me. I knew at the time this was serious as she is the type of person that once an expected conclusion or logical outcome is established, she will stop at nothing to get there. She would never fail to meet the end state even though things might go in a different direction but only after crossing a milestone. It was one of the qualities that I admired about her, one seldom seen in most people. I am not sure if I was more hurt or terrified. I know I felt devastated and thinking how I can go the extra mile to make every attempt to save my marriage. I wanted to be at peace with trying my best even though I was not happy either but in codependency and denial. My first idea was counseling, which she was not ready to do as she had some soul-searching of her own before we engaged in third-party help. This was put off until after the summer, but I quickly realized it was a formality when she said that we had to go since a court would force us anyway. I knew it was likely over then, although deep down it was clearly over a long time ago. She clarified many times that we were living in denial. This could have been more for me since at the time, I would have stayed miserable and unappreciated just to be married and with my family.

What hurt the most was the reality that she did not love me anymore or perhaps never really did. Opposites attract but have to blend or continue to attract in order to work for the long haul. Looking from the outside in, the differences between us were huge, but I thought we could make it work. I am one of those types of people who like to be close to others with different tastes and points of view. I sometimes prefer it as I like to see many perspectives. However, I later learned that is better in business or some friendships and not in the core of a marriage. We each had different strengths and weaknesses that I thought would help complement a successful life. I guess we might have made great business partners, but it no longer worked where it counted. I have seen many couples overcome this and find a common point of connection. Some just accept there is not one and live on. We could not achieve either.

My wife and I could not sustain any connection in a way that she needed, which was more than less dynamic women required. I will admit I just was not capable of diving in that deep, a failure on my part, but I am working on it for the future perhaps. As things deteriorated, it became more impossible to even attempt. We became task-oriented at family life and quite good at it, but it was all a charade. There was no joy, and there was no rejuvenation. Thank God we managed at all costs to be involved parents and our children had progressed adequately. Another deal breaker was courting. She stopped wearing makeup and dressing up. I gained a lot of weight and lost a lot of hair, one of which I could have controlled, not to mention amplifying some other unflattering aging man traits. Nevertheless, despite not trying to impress, my wife is an attractive woman with bright eyes and a good smile when showed. She looked as good twenty years later as the day I met her aging gracefully along the way. However, when someone is unhappy all the time, it puts a mask on great features. On the other hand, through aging and losing shape fast and furious, I avoided looking at myself in the mirror. I did not even realize that if I was not engaging in my own reflection, how could she even in the slightest. I do not completely blame her based on shamefully letting myself go. I allowed it to happen, but I am working on it. Nevertheless, when there is no emotional connection possible and lost physical attraction, opposites are likely doomed. Once it was clear we were not going back, it was now time for administering a plan for the change. The thought of living single terrified me. I have always said, I do not know how single moms do it. Although shared custody is not the same as solo caregiving, it is still scary. I would have to learn to raise children not only as a father but as a detailed, caregiving mother in the sense to be protective and aware of the little things that are developmental triggers or dangers. This is something that I would have to work on, as I am a fifty thousand feet guy all the way, but kids require constant detail, monitoring, and awareness. This concerned me greatly.

Three initial declarations were reviewed at the start:

She wanted fifty-fifty custody. Great! I would not have it any other way. I love my children to an unexplainable extent. I am not a man who looks forward to time off from my kids. Wait, that is not entirely true. In the stressful times, I did like those two-day business trips once a quarter just for some quiet time but no shenanigans. Just peace and quiet in a comfortable hotel alone. Outside of that, I want to be with my children all the time. They are the only outcomes I feel I did completely worthwhile and so right at the same time. No one has been able to fully explain a parent's love, and yes, it is 100 percent true you have to be one even in the case of adoption or stepparenting to have a chance of getting it. I like to think of it as the most severe infatuation, crush, adoration, and all out love you can have for someone forever without the element of physical attraction. Talk about a true connection. So, when she declared fifty-fifty custody, it was the first thing we agreed on in a long time. This was a quick and easy debate.

The second concern was the house. This was a tough one to accept as it was the one example to date of an achievement that turned out to be exactly how I aspired. The dwelling was both our dream house. We were the original owners and built at the low end of the millennium market before the great real estate boom following recovery from tragic 9/11. It was in the perfect area of South Florida as Elaine is a Miami native and I, a Floridian via NY family transplant. It was close to both our families, and since we both worked in the area, convenient. Also, there were only a handful of very good school districts in this region, and this was one of the best. Since we both indicated a desire to have children further on up the road, it made sense. We found a perfect model that had everything both of us always wanted. For her, it had five bedrooms, formal living and dining, grand entrance, huge master walk-in closet and bath. It was also near a dog park for Sydney, our pseudo child at the time. For me, it had the three-car garage (the Florida basement), a full cabana bath with access to the backyard (perfect for the pool I built two years later), and a great kitchen since I was the cook. Over the next six years prior to our first born, we put in all the right upgrades including a custom wall unit that cost as much as a car and I should have my head examined for buying. It was all a great achievement and thinking about walking away just plain sucks out loud.

Deep down, I knew it made more sense for me to leave. I could not bear taking my kids from the only home they knew with their awesome bedrooms or putting them in the middle of a fight over it. Also, I rationalized that if this was truly going to end, I only hoped I could get over it, heal, and love again someday hopefully in a healthy relationship. That being said, one thing I do know about women is that no woman wants to be in another woman's house—unless in the case of a widower situation, maybe. So rather than fight and have a slim chance of winning only to have to sell later or totally remodel, it seemed more logical to walk away. Besides, since it looked like I would have to rebuild a good part of my life, a maintained community where I do not need to clean a pool or take care of a yard might be the right move. There was also the thought of living in my victory alone with the memories and emptiness. Nevertheless, I was not ready to admit that yet and to automatically assume over the next few months that I alone need to look for a new home really started to piss me off. You would think the person who wanted out would be the one that had to leave, right? The icing on the cake was that it was two-thirds paid off, but again this was a battle I probably would not win and would not really want to anyway. I always felt when you move on, you need to really move on.

Finally, my stance was that even if I were to consider leaving the house versus fighting for it or pushing to sell, she would have to go back to work full-time. Up to this point, she had been working part-time with her long-time employer and still pulling in more than what many people make in a year. We were very good at the administration of life, and our jobs worked well together. Me, full time with benefits and her, flexing twenty to thirty hours a week earning a great secondary income was a perfect match for our needs allowing one of us (mostly her) to be at any parent function or needed appointment. With a CPA and MBA (from where we met in grad school), her earning potential on paper met or may have even exceed mine. I felt it was fair to put it to use and for us to be in a situation where alimony was not part of the equation. The kids' expenses would be fifty-fifty or equal child support. She admirably agreed to these terms as she prides herself on being an independent woman.

Going into the summer months of the same year with her denial ending and mine just realized, it was now time to start the next step of either putting together a last-effort chance to reconcile or plan the events needing to happen for divorce. She told me I should take off my wedding band as she did weeks earlier, which I kind of noticed. After fifteen years of wearing it, I did feel uncomfortable at first. Now, it was time to inform my family and friends and look at the real estate market. Telling my family was incredibly difficult yet relieving in the end. Not the first in my large family to see this but rare and since still in a conservative Italian culture, certainly not a welcome event. I was mostly worried about my mother. She just overcame a health issue, and I did not want her to worry. My father was another concern. However, he was always a little disappointed that my marriage did not follow our traditional ways. In fact, it was never comfortable. My wife did not feel warm to my family for years, and as a result they were almost estranged. When everyone was together, there was always tension in the air. I was always in the middle of it all trying to keep the peace and attempting to keep everyone happy to the point where I forgot what makes me happy. Trying to manage my marriage in general was a difficult task. I have sort of a Rocky Balboa complex, where I think it is admirable to keep running back in the ring to take the shots going the distance no matter what damage it causes (emotionally of course). It took a toll on me, and they knew it. When I told them, they were very supportive and had concern mainly for the boys. The silver lining was that they would now see them more during my custody periods. My younger brother Joe, whom I have become much closer to lately, also was supportive. What a relief this was to have my family behind me. I later realized they were prepared and felt that years ago the young man they knew changed into someone else who was growing increasingly distant and unhappy. While true, this was not to blame entirely on my wife because it was I who denied my roots. So, in a way my parents were glad to have a chance to get their son back. Denying my family, our traditions, and our culture is one of my key regrets.

I also have a handful of friends that I would put my life on the line for. Some were from high school and a couple from the last few years. I met a few at an old bar we used to frequent to tell them the news. When I sat down their first words were Well, we figured you're here to tell us you are dying or getting a divorce. Please tell us you are not dying. We then talked through the next couple of hours, and it helped a great deal to know I had my old friends to help me through the change. The dynamic with my friends was the same as with my family. My wife never got along with them, and this caused more distant relationships in my life. This was hard because I am that classic extrovert, enjoying being around people and especially good friends. However, over time, like with my family, I withdrew from my friends too by not being available and not in the mix. I even have a lovely goddaughter that I regret not spending more time with. I did what I thought I had to do, side with my current family (mainly my wife), through the years. Adding to the problem, there were no new friends in our lives. My wife, that classic introvert, had few close relationships. In the end, my friends understood the path I chose and why I did what I needed to do. They were a huge help in the transition that followed over the next year. The only problem was they were all married, which meant I would be in a different status. I hoped their wives would not grow concerned with my new life influencing their husbands. So far, surely nothing to worry about. I am glad they, too, welcomed me and my boys back into their lives. Their families were glad to have the opportunity to see more of us. Overall, the acceptance and support of my family and friends allowed me to cope with the next year of brutal change.

Next was to find a place to live. Andy, one of my closest friends who helped carry me through this event, just got his real estate license, and even though I have always felt it is best never to do business with family or friends, we started looking. It just so happened that five years after the bubble burst in 2008, Florida real estate was climbing again rapidly from low inventory and cash buyers. Crazy, if this series of events happened a year earlier or when I originally brought up the concern and when the market was still a buyer's one, I could have bought another dream house. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards and another point of discontent in my wife's timing of intention. Instead we started the search for a modest townhouse or small house with the requirements of three bedrooms and at least a one-car garage. I also suggested my wife look for a place to be fair, which she never took that seriously, but I insisted that she at least show an effort. The reality was it was still me that would move on begrudgingly just because it made more sense for everyone involved. I think the biggest thing that bothered me was the stereotype of a man leaving his family. This was an ironic and painful side effect for me as I was not the one pushing to break up the family and hated to look like that was the case. Nevertheless, Andy and I looked at every house that came up over the next few months and let me tell you there were some real shitholes.

During this time, my wife agreed to start counseling. Unfortunately, this was not to save our marriage but to make sure we get it out of the way should a court have ordered it due to children involved. We went to our first session, and she proclaimed her mind was made up and she was just there to go through the motions. The counselor and I were able to convince her that it would be a healthy exercise nevertheless and we should keep an open mind. It was at the end of the very first session that I knew it was over. A powerful quality of my wife was that again once she reached a conclusion on something, she saw it 100 percent through 100 percent of the time. There was never any going back or wavering for her. Also, at this time her resentment toward me was growing to a higher level. I am not sure to this day what I had done to deserve such anger that I may have overperceived other than invading her life space and idea of what her new world should be like. I was a loyal and faithful husband which, in hindsight, isn't enough. She had to take a journey on her own, and I was in the way. We soldiered on for another month of sessions…until the counselor, after hearing my wife's wishes again, closed her pad and said, Well, I guess the next appropriate step for you both is to seek legal counsel. That was it—fired from couples' therapy. At least we can say that we tried, although it was more important to me to make sure and say we attempted to explore all options. While this process was complicated and mechanical for her, for me it was very deep, especially regarding my boys. How would they fare? How would this affect their lives, their success, their ability to have future relationships? This truly kept me up at night.

It was Halloween at this