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At the first glance it looked like an ordinary English assignment sitting on the Daredevil’s desk. Then I realized that this 13 year old boy who has been struggling with his parents’ divorce, has found a way to open his heart. This is his essay.
“My mom had now been married for 18 years. It seemed like everything was going fine, but my dad just had to spoil it. On September 24th 2005, a couple of weeks before my parents’ anniversary my dad was moved out of the house and into an apartment. They had decided to get a divorce. A few days earlier my mom found out that my dad had a secret admirer. It hit her when she was driving back from food shopping. She was in pain mentally and physically.
Every day my mom would get into arguments with my dad. My dad was though “shy” to admit he had pondered on another woman, and that was how it was until my mom moved him out of the house. My mom and dad were now officially “separated”.
My dream was broken. I always wanted to have the perfect life with two great parents standing there for me, when I got into trouble or when I aced a test. It seemed not from now on. Only one parent would be there for me mainly and the other only sometimes. I realized though my mom had made the right choice for her and us. Things would be much harder now and some days I would cry with tears dripping down enough to fill the Delaware canal. I was in total denial and shock for the next week.
My mom had been fighting for our custody and money. My mom had made the choice to follow my dad around the world wherever the business took him. She had been betrayed and back-stabbed. We were now alone and stranded on an island. Trying to find a way out of this mess, the only hope was to believe that everything would be all right. That is the only way to succeed. Everything started to get better. We were now breaking through!
Just a couple of days ago we got all the home equity. I felt better in my heart and really do believe and feel I’m a much better person. I have gone through a lot in my life, but this is one that would be the hardest for me to overcome, but I know I can do it. We know we had fallen for the magic trick, but we now know it was never real.”
On Monday morning I battled heavy winds and torrential rain that swept across the town to get to the Courthouse. Passing the neighbouring farm so reminiscent of Provence, I noticed that the geese were having a field day splashing in the pond twice its normal size. Walking to my attorney’s office, I had my umbrella turned inside out resigning myself to the ‘wet look’ in front of the judge. We entered the Courthouse, our high heels clicking in unison, wheeling my heavy file behind us. To my relief, we settled the tax and house issues in a conference room and only reported to the judge our decision.
It was a strange experience standing next to my Wasbund, attorney on each side, swearing on the Bible to speak the truth and nothing but the truth. I’ve seen it done in the movies many times. Except this was not a movie. This was my real life. I wondered if everyone had to swear on the Bible regardless of their religion or beliefs. How did they know that I wasn’t an atheist or a Buddhist? The Bible would mean diddly squat then.
Why does my mind keep wondering like this all the time? I need to concentrate on what the Wasbund’s lawyer is reciting to the judge. No, I’ll let my lawyer do that and I’ll keep pondering about how many couples like us has the man typing with a disinterested mask over his face seen in his lifetime. Back to reality where the lawyers are firing comments to each other over our heads. Judge gets pissed off and leaves, telling our attorneys to sort out the exact wording of a clause in question. He leaves us standing long after we have reached the agreement. I remind myself of our lawyers combined hourly rate. At least two out of four people are not wasting their time. The judge returns. Wasbund and I answer lots of questions with “I do your honor.” A very different kind of “I do” than the one we uttered 19 years ago.
We leave the courtroom. It’s still raining cats and dogs.
I missed my boys terribly, as they were with the English Wasbund eating roast beef. This was the first family oriented holiday that I had to spend without them and I would be lying if I were to say that it wasn’t soul crushing. All I could do was to send them funny interactive e-cards with bunnies spray painting Humpty Dumpty or singing the Easter blues.
Fortunately, although my very small family is in Croatia, I have spent Easter Sunday in a warm atmosphere surrounded with the people I care for. My friend’s family, large for my one or two child European family standards, have adopted me for every major holiday, and I have spent past Thanksgiving and Christmas Day with them. I met my friend, Ms C., at the ‘End of Season’ annual function at the outdoor tennis club we both belong to. We discovered that we were both in the throws of the divorce with three children and, despite her beating me in tennis, became friends.
I find her family to be very engaging and stimulating. Discussions rage over dinner table laden with ham, rack of lamb, asparagus and other culinary delights. At one moment we could be talking about movies we have seen, the next we could be voicing our opinions on Nancy Pelosi’s visit to Syria. The house was abuzz with children and their stories from college or from the many activities they do. The Golf Masters was permanently on in the family room for anyone who wanted to check on the latest development.
Sitting at the table, I suddenly became aware how we were a microcosm of the family structure in the U.S. today. There were two happily married couples, three divorced singletons and two widows.
According to the statistics, we live longer, especially women, who should expect to celebrate their 80th birthday if they are white and 76th if they are black. They continue to lead active lifestyles and travel, long after their husbands have passed away. The same statistics point at men’s life expectancy being 5 years less than that of the women. (Bring on the jokes!)
Divorce has become a common phenomenon, although there is nothing common in the way people act during this process or in the emotions arising from it. It is a well known fact that half of the marriages in the U.S. end up in divorce. This figure is even worse for the second marriage with 76% ending in divorce. For the brave enough to attempt it for the third time, 87% will be filing for the divorce. I sometimes feel that, as we approach the midlife number 40, life becomes a game of musical chairs. Lots of people are dancing to different tunes, but when the time comes to sit on a chair, there is always someone left standing. When the music starts and the next round begins, the person that was left standing has a chance to bump someone else off the chair, and so the game continues. The marriage counselors are desperately trying to piece together the flying debris from the broken chairs. The players having the most fun are the lawyers, competing in their own game of who can run to the bank the fastest with the largest bucket of money.
Have you ever played the game?
