if you asked to seem y scars, i wouldn't pull up my sleeves and show you my arms. i would reach dow my thorat, and pull out my heart to show you all the knicks and cuts which have all but healed. i would ask you to count them, my heart is your hands, then maybe you'd realize that there's one for everytime i needed you, and you were absent from the world.
It's a choice....don't feel sorry for the parent who chose not to spend time with their kids while they were in elementary, middle and high school. These are the critical years. If you love them you'll find a way.