Last week I went to the bar to have a beer with a buddy of mine who has found himself newly separated, and was moving into an apartment that weekend. He's one of the first in my group of friends from my twenties to go through this; I'm sure he won't be the last.
Out of respect, I don't want to go into any of the details of what has brought his family to this point, but I have been thinking about it all week. Though things look lost, there's still a chance to salvage and renew what is left of the marriage. Neither he nor his wife are people of faith, though, so I'm having trouble in talking with him of underscoring that core element that sustains many marriages during times of adversity.
The only real advice I could give him was just to be a stubborn S.O.B. and refuse to concede his marriage to divorce. Simply don't sign anything. Heap coals upon her head by being faithful. I don't know how this works in the age of no-fault divorce, which has wrought untold damage to our society, and allowed people to walk away from their vows rendering them meaningless. But it's the only thing I could come up with. Fight. Fight for your kids sake. Fight for your vows.
Our Lord uses the marriage analogy in scripture intentionally to relate himself to his people--Christ is the bridegroom, and the Church his bride. The bridegroom does not divorce his spouse, even when she is unfaithful, for God hates divorce (Mal 2:16). He commands Hosea marry the prostitute Gomer to illustrate the faithfulness of God to his harlot bride Israel.
The thing about divorce, the more I read from those who have endured it as children, is how much it can affect the life of faith. Marriage is built on trust and faith by way of vows. When that floor drop out--esp in cases of infidelity or seemingly foolish 'throwing away' of lives built on something one thought was solid--children can start to doubt that God will always be there for them, since their father or mother wasn't. They believe that God cannot love in any permanent, unselfish way, because of what they see in their parents conceding to self-centeredness and putting their own needs first and backtracking on the promises they made. It is an absolute scandal and while I'll concede that some situations might warrant separation, the majority of divorces are simply based in self-centeredness. I wonder if parents knew the affect a divorce would have on their children years later, if they would still go through with it.
A friend of mind edited a book in which she publishes the stories of adult children of divorce and how, even years later, it continues to affect them. I sent it to my buddy in the hopes it would sober him to the situation, that kids aren't always as resilient as they let on. I also sent him her followup book about marriages that were redeemed from the brink of divorce, often by grit and grace, and a refusal to give in to the temptation to divorce. This is one story from the first book, one of the more tragic and hard to read ones. I'll share it for the sake of those who haven't read it yet. The final battle, remember, will be over marriage and family, the last outpost of which Satan will try to overthrow the Kingdom of God.
Q. What effect has your parents’ divorce had on you?
A. My parents’ divorce has been pretty traumatic for me. I was 13 when my dad said he was leaving, and it was a huge shock, as we never thought that would happen to our family, especially after eight kids and over 25 years together—and after they had renewed their vows just a year before!
Although divorce was all around us in our extended family, we did not anticipate this happening to us at all. My family was involved in the Church and we all attended Mass weekly. My dad was a physics teacher at the all-boys Catholic high school, and that allowed us kids to get discounts on our Catholic education. With so many of us, my dad also worked as a janitor at our parish. My mom was a lector, my siblings were ushers, and my brother and I were altar servers. My mom and dad loved to sing and joined the prestigious Fatima Choir that operated out of another local Catholic parish.
My siblings and I never imagined that our parents, who had been together so long, after having so many kids and with such involvement in the Church, would ever just throw it all away. I was 13 years old and in 7th grade when my dad told us he was leaving my mom. At first he just told us things were “not working out,” and he was going to move out of the home. I assumed he’d be nearby, and we’d still see him. I later found out that he was leaving her for another woman who lived in another state—a woman he is still with but never married—and that we would almost never see him after that.
We stayed in our big, old house in a bad neighborhood, a bunch of vulnerable sheep now without a shepherd. A few years later, we were victims of a home invasion by some neighborhood thugs. My mom and oldest brother were home at the time; the criminals held a gun to my mom’s head and beat my brother very badly, dislocating his jaw in two places. We were, again, traumatized as a family. My mom, my little sister, and I ended up in an apartment across town, and the boys scattered to various apartments.
We kept going to church with our mom, but the divorce really changed how we saw God and life. Amazingly, despite being abandoned and depressed, my mom never lost her faith in God and remained very devoted to Jesus and Mary. I look back now at her life in complete admiration! She was an exemplary, saintly woman! But sadly, my faith, and that of most of my siblings, wavered tremendously.
My siblings and I all went through pagan, secular, hardly-believing-in-anything periods. In those years, we were hopeless, often aimless, depressed, and engaged in premarital sex. Some of my siblings have substance abuse problems, and others are on a multitude of prescription anti-depressants. I remember when I was in high school, someone from the Oprah Winfrey show called my mom and invited her to be on the show about families that break up after 25+ years of marriage (a cousin had given them her phone number). She politely declined and said she did not want to humiliate my dad on national TV. At the time, I was upset, because I was hoping for a free trip and a T-shirt or something, but I have later come to realize what an incredibly classy mom I had!
My oldest brother, who had been beaten by the thugs, later committed suicide. Within a year and a half, my mom was found dead in her apartment. She was only 57 and lived 12 years after the divorce—and I am certain that the trauma led to her early demise.
For many years after my dad moved away, I felt kind of like an “illegitimate” nobody. It felt as if all the 26 years he spent with my mom were, at least to him, a big mistake, a massive detour. I would often feel as if “I shouldn’t even exist.” But thankfully, our mom always told us we were wonderful gifts from God; that we were, in fact, meant to be. I really don’t know where any of us would be if we didn’t have that profound motherly love. As I have come back into the Church, I am often struck by her wisdom and see the logic in all the things she was trying to do. I am so thankful to be alive, and I hope my story will help others who are going through things like this.
My dad is still alive, and one of my brothers (who has had difficulty keeping a job and has abused drugs) is living in his basement. I do think my dad feels some remorse over the whole thing, but he feels like there is no way to fix it at this point. His girlfriend has suffered a brain aneurysm and needs constant medical attention, which my dad provides. I don’t talk to him much because it tends to make me feel bad. I’m sad we don’t have a good relationship and that I might not see him much before he dies. I worry about his eternal soul. May God have mercy on us all!
Contributor #54
Female, 39
Age at parents' divorce: 13
This reflection was made 26 years after the divorce.
Primal Loss: The Now-Adult Children of Divorce Speak
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