Keeping a promise

I skyped with my daughters again today.  They'd had another wonderful day: I'm not sure where they'd been, but they'd helped pull down a barn (according to the ex, at least), and fed a horse and rounded up two little calves.  I suppose they must have been to a display farm.  They were relaxed and tired when we skyped, and so they were happy for me just to read Winnie-the-Pooh stories to them over the skype.

Image from here

For the third time in as many skypes they asked me why their mommy and daddy aren't together, and why we 'didn't get married' (I suspect what they mean is why we've 'become unmarried').  I tried to bat the questions away a little. I said that distance didn't really matter: after all, when Jesus was walking all over Israel and Mary was back in Nazareth, they didn't stop loving each other, and the girls understood that.  And I said that what I wanted still was what was best for them and for their mother, and that I wanted all of them to be happy.

The weird thing is that I meant it.  I don't pine for the ex: I don't look her up on google or facebook or anything, and I try not to think about the Before Time too much.  I'm sure if I tried hard enough I could even rationalise remarrying.  But I still want to keep the promise I made to do all I could to make her happy.  That promise is, in a way, the last link to the happiest I've ever been.  I guess that's why, despite everything, I still don't want to break it.