Divorce is an ugly, wretched thing. I should know—I’ve been there and done that myself and experienced the divorce of my parents too. My parents were married in 1966, and were married over 40 years before their marriage ended. I was an adult but it hurt nonetheless. Sometimes the pain came as close to emotionally unbearable as you can get—so bone-deep that it felt almost physical at times. It wreaked havoc on our relationships within our family and I felt like no matter what I did for one or the other of them, it wasn’t the right thing and it resulted in hard feelings from the opposite party.
I don’t think either of them ever got a good grip or understanding of how my heart ached over it. Understandably, they were focused on the demise of their marriage and were mourning the loss of a lifetime together.
Today I read a chapter of an autobiographical "book" that chronicles the real-life love story of The Prairie Woman (AKA: Ree) and her “Marlboro Man” husband. In one chapter of the book, she describes what it was like to witness the crumbling of her own parents’ 30 year marriage as an adult:
“I loved my parents, loved them dearly. But as an adult, watching the thirty-year marriage of your mother and father implode and disintegrate and blow to smithereens is like watching a train wreck happen in slow motion. And your parents are the conductors, and on the train are four grown children, and many lifelong friends, and all the future grandchildren, and a community, and memories and hopes and dreams. And they’re all about to die in a firey, deadly accident. Oh, and you’re on the train, too. But you’re also watching from outside the tracks. You want to scream, try to scream, try to warn the operators of the train of the devastation that’s about to come. But it’s a nightmare, and your voice is squeezed and squelched and nothing comes out. And you’re powerless to stop it.”
I could never form the words to explain what it was like to experience it, but this is a deadpan description of what it was like. I didn’t/don’t blame either of my parents although there were certainly legitimate causes for their marriage failing. It’s all over now and the truth is, my father is dead now and the grief from their marriage breaking up pales in comparison to the grief of no longer having him in our lives—I’m sure my mother agrees—she loved him til the day he died.
1 comment:
I've been through it twice. Once as a child and once as an adult. It isn't a fun experience either way, but it seems so much sadder when you see it through the eyes of a wife and mother. I think it just makes us worker harder on our own marriage, and hope that our children never see the things we have.
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