When Silence Sets In: Navigating the Spaces Between Us

There's a particular kind of stillness that creeps in after your children are no longer there, not just physically but emotionally—a silence that speaks volumes.

I've just published a deeply personal essay on my Substack called "When The Silence Sets In." In this piece, I explore what happens when presence doesn't equal connection. After my divorce, I showed up at every game, sat on cold bleachers, and drove long hours to events, but I found myself becoming increasingly invisible in my daughters' lives—not through malice or intent, but through the subtle erosion that happens when you're no longer woven into the fabric of their daily rhythm.

Now, facing stage IV cancer, that invisibility carries a different weight. Time feels different now. They still have the luxury of later. I don't.

But this isn't just a story of loss. It's about finding meaning within silence, about recognizing that if I'm not going to be seen by others, I damn well better learn to see myself. It's about the courage to reclaim the parts of ourselves we bury under obligation and performance.

For anyone who has felt like a ghost in their own story, whether as a parent, a partner, or simply as someone whose love feels present but invisible, you are not alone.

I invite you to read the full reflection on my Substack, "The Edge of Now," where I share the pain of feeling unseen and the unexpected strength that can emerge from those quiet spaces.

Sometimes, the quietest words can break the longest silences.

You can find it at: When Silence Sets In.

Thom