I'll go in a bit different direction than divorce or kid stuff.
Grew up in south Texas where it was an hour to the grocery store. My family was super tight as we spent all our time together. Not many friends for any of us including parents as it was just too remote. From as far back as I can remember I spent tons and tons of time with my dad. He worked in the oil field checking on wells, and I could ride to work with him everyday in the summer. We ate big dill pickles, drank semi-cool Dr Peppers and just talked. ALOT. Many, many nights he would come in my room to say good night before I went to bed, and he would sit on the corner of the bed and tell me that all we had in this world was each other and our family. Seemed correct to me.
Go off to college but come back and forth regularly to hunt and fish and often times work with him. So never a hard separation. Flash forward to 1995 and I have been working in Austin after college. Still seeing my folks every month or two. But I decided I hated my job and I got recruited to go to graduate school several states away. Call dad, telling him I am coming home to spend Christmas but will load up a few things I had there and I would be leaving to go off far away. He is excited for me and glad I am coming home for the holidays for a few days. We hunt and fish.
The day comes that I need to leave so we get up and drink a few cups of coffee. I have a 15-hour drive ahead of me so I say I need to go. We walk out to front of house and he wants to show me a new tool, then a place for a future flower bed, and then some dent on a trailer, etc, etc. We walk around and talk and everytime I head toward my truck, he says "Hey, look at this...." Anyway, after an hour, I say "Dad, I have to get on the road."
I get in the truck, roll the window down. He comes over and starts telling a story. I say, I have to go and I put the truck in drive. Say I love you, and start out of the driveway. He starts walking toward the house...and falls to his knees crying. I am watching all this in the rearview mirrow. I start bawling. I just about throw it in park, but I know if I step out of that truck, I will never leave. I grip the wheel, point the truck east and drive off with him in the yard..lost, broken, alone.
Didn't see him and mom for almost a year. A long, hard year.