I read that there was a study done about gender bias in the Massachusetts Courts that revealed only 29% of Massachusetts fathers have full physical custody of their kids after taking their parental hopes and dreams to a judge.  This topic has always been interesting because I started fighting for time with my son when he was about a year old.  An underdog from the start, the dozen years that followed were heart-wrenching, frustrating, stressful, and, at times, physically and emotionally painful.  I recall my second day in court in 2012 when his mother’s attorney alleged fear that I’d board a plane and run off to Italy with my son.  I didn’t even have a valid passport.  “Don’t react to that.” My attorney advised.

If only I had a private jet, millions of dollars, a couple of aliases, a home in Italy, and the ability to speak fluent Italian. I’d have been like the Abruzzese version of James Bond, only driving a 2010 Toyota Camry and wearing a much cheaper suit. Because I was never married to his mother, I was told when she took off with him to kiss him simply goodbye. I was told I’d see him once or twice a month if lucky.  No way. I mean, no blanking way was I giving up without a fight.

To achieve a judge-imposed 50/50 parenting agreement when he was a baby, I’d have to move closer to the town to which his mother relocated. That meant I had to quit my job as the youngest Superintendent of Schools in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and leave my home—the first I’d ever bought after renting apartments for decades. I quit my job and moved out of my house. I found a new job and a new place to live. I picked Concord, MA, because it is home to one of the best public school districts in the state – meaning I’d be paying through the nose, ears…and eye sockets to live there. 

He then went back and forth for the next decade. He was with me every Tuesday from 7 PM to Thursday at 7 PM and every other Friday, Saturday, and Sunday until 7 PM. As a bonus, he’d stay with me on Monday holidays if he was with me the preceding Sunday because I am off from work on Federal Holidays.  Then, in January of 2022,  50/50 became every day pretty quickly.  By February 2022, my son was with me for weeks at a time, staying at his mom’s only about two or three days per month.

At some point, he started complaining about things that were going on at his mom’s. I wrote about them in my first draft of this post, then thought better of it. Expressive writing doesn’t mean that we have to express everything. And some things might be better unwritten - no matter how true they are. Just know that we’ve been through a lot - from a toddler smelling like smoke, who was late or absent nearly 65 times in Kindergarten - to a fast food diet. Exercise for him was a swear word, and when he was little, he’d be so exhausted when he got dropped off at my house that he’d often throw tantrums or fall asleep within an hour. 

It was an uphill climb…until he became old enough to speak for himself.  We’ve been in and out of court so often that I would have just become a lawyer if there were a way-back machine like the Deloorian in Back to the Future.  Hindsight is 20/20.  But I finally took the witness stand on the matter at the beginning of October 2024, 13 years after his birth. After all this time, my son and I finally had our day in court. Within days, our judge awarded me physical custody.  When I received the e-mail from my attorney, I was sitting at my desk in my office.  At the sight of the message, my heart was pounding.  I opened the PDF, nearly hyperventilating.  I read every word slowly.  Then, for the first time in a thousand years, I cried.

Luca was at school, and I’d have to wait until he got out to tell him. I called him when I was in the car on my way home and told him not to leave the house until I arrived. Naturally, he asked me why. I told him I just had something really important to read to him.  He’s impatient, so we went back and forth on that for a bit.  As I pulled into the driveway, he stood on the back porch at the railing.  He must have been waiting for me to get there.  I got out of my car, papers in hand. He then raised both arms in the air like Rocky Balboa, victorious at the end of a title fight. “I know what it is! We won!” he yelled.

Luca’s reaction on that porch will stay with me forever. It wasn’t just about winning a court battle but a victory of love, resilience, and unwavering belief in the importance of doing what’s right. In that moment, I realized how much he had grown—not just in height or age, but in understanding. Even at 13, he knew this fight wasn’t about defeating anyone but ensuring he had a safe, stable, and loving home. It was about him, his future, and our bond as father and son.

As parents, we often think of ourselves as the teachers, guiding our children through life’s lessons. But in so many ways, it’s our kids who teach us. Luca taught me patience when I was at my wit’s end, strength when I felt I had none left, and the true meaning of perseverance when every obstacle seemed insurmountable. He reminded me that every late-night call with a lawyer, every courtroom visit, and every penny earned and spent was worth it because it meant being there for him—fully, completely, and unconditionally.

Through this journey, I’ve come to believe that living it is the best way to teach resilience. Our kids watch us closely, more than we often realize. They see how we face challenges, react to setbacks, and rise again when life knocks us down. By refusing to give up, even when the odds seemed stacked against me, I hope I’ve shown Luca that some battles are worth fighting and that doing what’s right often requires courage, sacrifice, and unwavering everything.

I hope that one day, when he faces his challenges, he’ll remember what we went through together. He’ll know that no matter the path's difficulty, he has the strength to persevere and the wisdom to stand firm in his beliefs. And I hope he’ll carry with him the lesson that love—real, selfless, and enduring love—is the strongest force in the world.

Our journey wasn’t easy, but it was ours and worth every step. As I look at the young man Luca is becoming, I feel a sense of pride that words cannot capture. We’ve proven that resilience, determination, and an unbreakable bond can overcome even the toughest trials. And for that, I am endlessly thankful.