by Dave Rodway
In July of 2005, after a long illness, my dad passed away. Ten years earlier, I had moved to New Mexico to be closer to my dad and my brother Bill. I was never close to my family but I tried during those years. Now dad was gone, and I was still estranged from my brother for the most part. My connection to my family wasn’t very strong, and I decided a move was important. San Diego seemed like the place to go for all the right reasons.
I did things right. I searched online, and found an apartment to rent in Carlsbad, near Sue. We wanted to be close to her, since she was the only person we knew in the area. I set up the lease over the phone, and I shipped some large furniture ahead. Indira would have her own room, and I would sleep on the couch, in the living room. Also over the phone, I had arranged to start teaching drum lessons with a company in San Diego. They looked at my bio and were thrilled I was coming to San Diego. I had work planned and was looking forward to a new and different life. Some people thought I should stay in New Mexico, but I never felt at home there. Maybe in San Diego, I could reconnect with my drumming. Kiddo was now growing up and quite a wonderful young lady. This would be a great move.
I gave my notice at my job, and I closed up all the loose ends. And kiddo and I took off for the unknown by 2006. Indira and I drove slowly in our new Scion. Whatever belongings we had were in the car with us. We didn’t have much. We stopped regularly, and met many people along the way in New Mexico and Arizona. We stopped at the Grand Canyon and spent many hours marveling. We took photos and videos we’ve looked at many times since, and we’ve agreed to go back and spend a weekend there.
My first concern when arriving in our new hometown of Carlsbad, was looking at all the schools I had done research on. We saw all the schools, and spoke to wonderful people along the way. Indira wound up at the local school, Buena Vista Elementary. It had an ocean view. Wow. Living just a few miles from the Pacific Ocean took some getting used to. Amazing. Kiddo excelled in her new school. Back in New Mexico, her grades during that last year there dropped rapidly. I knew that although she didn’t say so, she was feeling a lot of stress due to her mom’s infrequent and often disruptive involvement in her life. Kiddo had been struggling. But the move launched her into a new headspace.
I started working for the music company and teaching drumming full time, after school, at night, and on weekends. Since I drove all over San Diego’s North County area going from lesson to lesson, I decided to put advertising magnets on my car to let everybody know I gave lessons. Before I knew it, I had my own students, separate from those the music company provided, and I was able to set my own rates and hours. Soon, I quit the music company job and was my own boss. As any single parent can tell you, being free to pick up and drop off my daughter at school each day was important. So I arranged my schedule to do so. In addition to traveling to my students’ homes to teach them, I started teaching from my apartment too. I set up an electronic drum set for the lessons (and so I could practice quietly at home). The neighbors never complained about noise, and when Indira’s friends came over, they could play on the durable, rubber surfaces with abandon. It was a great time for kiddo and me.
At the same time, I found a band that needed a drummer for regular, weekly gigs. Finally! I hadn’t been drumming regularly for so long, I thought I’d forgotten how. Not true—I enjoyed playing and did well. There were a lot of songs to learn, but I practiced and listened to the songs over and over to get ready for the gigs. We played on weekend nights, in bars. When I had gigs, kiddo would stay at her friend’s house for a sleepover, which was great, because I didn’t have to find babysitters. I had no idea how many times girls wanted to do sleepovers! I think I slept at my friend’s house twice in my entire kid life. Indira wanting to go to her friend’s houses made it easy for me to do gigs.
Of course I joined the local gym. Honestly, the local gym wasn’t nearly as nice as the gym I had left in Albuquerque (New Mexico Sports and Wellness), but I needed to keep up my own training. One day at the gym, I was listening to the liver version of Sweet Emotion, by Aerosmith on my iPod—it was one of the songs on my new band’s set list, and I was trying to learn it by listening to it over and over. As the song was playing, a beautiful woman walked right up to me. I was waiting to do my next set of cable-flys and I was in my own world, air drumming and grooving. She asked what I was listening to. I told her and took out my ear buds and let her listen. She knew the tune. We started talking, and within a minute she mentioned her father had been a Jazz drummer and she knew a thing or two about both drumming and Jazz. I knew right then that I needed to talk with her. I needed to fall in love with her. I needed her.
Her name was Elizabeth. She walked away after we spoke for a minute or two. My heart was pounding. I needed to ask her out for coffee. I couldn’t remember ever meeting a woman that knew anything about Jazz. And to me, Jazz drumming is the most sophisticated and challenging of all the genres. My favorite drummers were and are Jazz drummers or drummers who grew up learning Jazz. I’d played it for years and loved it and here was a woman who loved Jazz too. I just happened to have a business card of mine in my pocket that day. I never have before or since carried a business card into the gym, but that day I was glad I did. A few minutes later we spoke again, she came back over towards where I was lifting and I asked her out to coffee. She agreed. We would meet in a few days, after Indira and I had went back to New Mexico for the weekend. I’d call her when I got back.
We called each other as planned, and we met for coffee. We agreed on nearly everything. I was wondering what kiddo was going to think. These were challenging times. Kiddo was leery and suspicious of women. Her own mom was unavailable, non-communicative, and all negative things. Like my own mother growing up, I knew what kiddo was going through and I had to tread lightly, I thought. We (Elizabeth and I) would have to go gently. Was Elizabeth able? Interested? Willing? As Elizabeth and I continued to meet for coffee and lunch, I was introducing the concept of now bringing Elizabeth into kiddo’s life. I began talking about “relationships” and prompting kiddo to consider what life might be like with someone else in our lives. She was resistant, cautious, fearful, you name it. I didn’t blame her. But eventually I would introduce the two.
I wanted only the best for kiddo and everyone involved. Kiddo came first. As single parents, our kids MUST come first. But Elizabeth had more qualities than I ever imagined. I couldn’t help but to realize that Elizabeth’s guidance, inspiration, intelligence and maternal instincts would only help kiddo grow into a wonderful woman herself one day. This relationship was different from the others I’d had. I wanted it to work.
We all became comfortable with each other. Elizabeth’s and my early dating was really all about kiddo. We eventually would decide to all live together at Elizabeth’s beautiful, spacious home. “E” and I spoke of marriage. I wanted her to marry me. I didn’t want to “live together and see what happens” or any of those crazy, foolish ideas single parents drag their children through. Once I decided I liked E, I wanted to marry her. Kiddo would see first-hand what a successful, fun, loving, adult marriage would look like.
So we decided to move in together 6 months, with the understanding that E and I would get married in the near future. Indira would have her own room at E’s place. We all agreed this would be a good idea, and it was. Part of what made it a good idea, and a responsible demonstration of maturity for Indira, was that I slept on the couch until E and I were married. So we did this: I slept on the couch and I didn’t sneak into E’s bedroom while kiddo was asleep. My number one rule is to never try to trick my kiddo. Kids know anyway. My kiddo trusts me to the moon and back, because I’ve done nothing to challenge that trust in all these years.
After living together successfully for awhile, I proposed to E—with kiddo’s blessing, and on March 20, 2008 Indira, E, and I went to the county clerk’s office and just the 3 of us, in a small room, with a small service, got married. We all cried and laughed. We’ve lived happily ever after AND I moved o
ff the couch. I get to sleep in the bedroom!
We’ve all had our ups and downs. Mostly ups. Indira is doing wonderfully in school and E and kiddo are great friends. E knows how to draw the line at parenting and friendship, and it works. Kiddo seems so grown up one minute, and just a “kiddo” the next. She’s 16 now, and we’re already looking at college options for her.
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I will take care of my kiddo as long as I can. I open car doors for her and put her first. I’m showing her what real men can and should do for her when she gets out in the world. When she’s 18, she’ll move out on her own and begin her own process. Her memories will be much better than mine or E’s.
It’s all about the kiddos. We only get one opportunity and so far, I have no regrets about “being there” for my kiddo. I asked my dad before he passed away what his biggest regret was, and he told me “I wish I was more ‘there’ for you kids. I wish I spent more time with you.” My kiddo was already 8 years old then, and I knew I was already doing the best I could. I knew I would never have those regrets about my kiddo. At the cost of financial downgrading and putting my dreams on hold until she’s out on her own, I’ve done and will continue to do whatever it takes for the health, safety and comfort of my kiddo. E feels the same way.
It’s all about the kiddos.