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Dealing with Divorce in Your Family
by Christopher M. Padgett
My parents got divorced when I was around
four years old. Little did I realize that
their choices would have a lasting impact on
my life.
For about a decade I have traveled around
the country doing ministry through music and
keynotes and as a result I have found that
my story is all too common. It doesn’t
matter if the homes are Christian or secular
anymore because divorce is almost an
expectation within most American families.
It seems the stages of life can be broken
down into: birth, school, dating, living
together, engagement, marriage, divorce,
re-marriage, possible divorce and
re-marriage again, and then death.
Our generation is settled on the quick fix.
If a relationship doesn’t work out at first,
than try another. We want it all now, and
it if isn’t to our liking than replacing it
is the best option. It is all about
self-gratification, and if something happens
that goes against personal preferences, than
individual satisfaction is only a choice a
way. What we have forgotten is that our
choices don’t just impact us individually.
What we choose today introduces us to a
different tomorrow and what we do
individually touches other people too,
whether we want it to or not.
Self-evaluation
A common feeling for children of a divorced
home-life is that somehow they played a part
in their parent’s marriage dissolving. I
didn’t struggle as much with this because my
parent’s repeatedly told me that it was
their choice and not mine which brought
about the divorce. It still left me feeling
hollow. I can remember looking around at my
friend’s mom and dad, seeing that they were
still together, feeling that my life was out
of sorts and unnatural. Divorce wasn’t as
common when I was young as it is now.
I was at my grandparents when my dad told
me. The words he said will forever remain
in my memory. It was later in the evening,
and the house was aglow with the many lights
in the sitting area. Christmas was
approaching and expectation was in the air.
My dad stopped me with something important
to say. He knelt down, eye-level to me with
his hands on my shoulders. I heard the
words but didn’t really understand the
significance of what he was trying to say.
He spoke, as parents tend to do toward their
children when trying to make them comprehend
a message clearly, in a slow and quiet
manner. I guess you could say to an extent
he was partially successful in that I still
remember the event, but it took some time
for me to truly absorb the meaning of his
words.
“Chris,” he said, “when you get home I won’t
be there.”
“Why?” I responded.
His reply I do not remember, but the funny
thing was that when we arrived to our
two-story home in North Dakota, it was my
dad who greeted us at the door. There was
snow on the ground that evening as we
entered the house. Seeing my father I can
remember saying, “I thought you said you
wouldn’t be here when we got home.”
I remember my dad and I built a wooden car
together. After that I don’t know when he
left. My dad moved to the opposite side of
town and my sister and I would visit him on
the weekends and holidays. These periodical
encounters begin to bring me the many
pictures of my father in which I remember
him best. Before the divorce the memory is
faded. I don’t even know the date or year
they were actually divorced.
In time my dad moved to St. Paul,
Minnesota. Instead of seeing him every
weekend we now only got visitation with our
father on major holidays and summer break.
Every Saturday though my father would call
to speak with my sister Carrie and I. It
was comforting to have his regular
involvement in my life, yet trying to father
over the phone is difficult for both
parties.
My parents would talk to each other after
our time was through and their conversation
would end up in a heated argument, where my
mother would slam the phone down as she
burst into tears. The phone would ring a
moment later and as I answered it my father
would tell me to put mother back on, where
they would pick up their argument afresh.
Many times it had to do with how my mother
was raising us in a manner unsuitable to his
desires, the need for more child-support,
and other things that I didn’t quite
understand. I found myself wanting my
father to win the arguments, and other times
I wanted my mother to pull out the victor.
This cheering for one parent over the other
is something that brought me much internal
angst.
From the beginning of their separation there
was another factor involved in these
different surroundings. My father’s house
across town was also home to Gail. She was
my dad’s girlfriend, soon to be wife. She
smoked and lived comfortably in his house.
I remember going places with Gail and
feeling the need to tell the check-out clerk
or bank teller that Gail was not my real
mother. I am sure they didn’t care, but I
felt I had an obligation to let people know,
lest they conclude that I was her child. In
many ways I was afraid. Afraid of confusing
where my love was to be primarily directed.
Not wanting to dishonor my mother or my
father.
Trying to fix the broken pieces
The divorce of my mother and father was so
monumental that most of my life consciously
and subconsciously was an attempt at trying
to put together the broken pieces. Striving
to understand why my life was different than
my friends. Trying to deal with the feeling
inside that said I was missing something
very important: a father.
My dad didn’t leave and abandon his kids,
but our occasional meetings and trips
highlighted the awkwardness of the
separation for me even more. I realized
that my life would forever be affected by
the choices my parents made. No matter how
many times I asked them to get back
together, and regardless the many prayers I
offered, my mom and dad continued to stay
divorced. I can even remember asking my dad
to consider getting back together with my
mother. Numerous times I would try and
subtly invite him to consider coming home
and living with us again as a family, but
there was a problem and her name was Gail.
My dad had committed himself to another and
there would be no turning back for him. His
path was heading in a direction different
than my mothers and apparently Gail’s was
more similar to his.
I would still try and find out if the
chances of my mother and father getting
together were even possible by asking
pointed questions. I would ask my mother if
she would be willing to get back together
with dad, and the funny thing was that she
would say it probably wouldn’t happen, and a
lot would have to change, but she would take
him back. It blew me away. I realized over
and over again that the continued separation
of my parents was because of my father’s
choices. He chose a different road and it
kept our family apart.
From an early age my dad and I were always
differing on views and opinions. Our
ideologies clashed because of our
theologies. (He wasn’t a Christian at all
and this impacted the way life was
approached.) I was being taught in a
Christian environment with my mother, yet my
dad vocally opposed those values and it
substance because it was so definitive and
inflexible towards many lifestyles and
belief structures, which seemed to him just
as viable as the other. Back and forth we
would go, talking and arguing for literally
years. Despite this revolutionary war in
our relationship he was my father and I
loved him immensely. I wanted to be with
him. I wanted to feel accepted by him.
Anger vs. love
It is easy to express anger and proclaim
another totally at fault, but even the
truthful feelings can’t take away the love.
The desire to be loved by my father was
something that took me a long time to
realize was there despite my parent’s
divorce. The sickening thought that he was
able to stop loving my mother could not be
my continual focus or bitterness would
follow me into the grave. The bitter
feelings and anger were there and real while
growing up, but alongside these emotions and
even more powerful was love. Love is the
very thing that overrides and takes the
bitterness away.
As an adult I can see that most fathers’
love their children in a way that could
never be interfered with, regardless the
circumstances. The fact that my dad wanted
to see and be with us did express to me that
he wasn’t like the fathers who left and
never came back again. For that I thank God
whole heartedly, because as I have grown
older I am happy to be given the privilege
of getting to know my father, which many are
unable to do. The ironic conflict of hating
the one you love is not uncommon for many
families, but love has always pulled out the
victor despite the circumstances.
I remember asking my dad numerous times why
he never fought for us in court. If he
really loved Carrie and I why didn’t he try
to win custody of us? He stated to our
satisfaction at the time that first he
didn’t want to put us through the ordeal of
possibly testifying or rather choosing a
parent in court. Secondly most women were
given the children back then unless unusual
and unhealthy circumstances were known
factors.
Finding God down the broken road
One of the first things that made a
difference in my life was the choice for
spirituality my mother made after the
divorce. She was determined and convinced
that we as a family would attend church
every opportunity we could. Many people
look at Christianity as a crutch for weak
and wounded people. I readily admit that I
am that weak and wounded person. In fact,
it is what we all have in common. We can
pretend that we have within ourselves all we
need to succeed in life, but we were born
crippled; born with a weakness called sin.
We were in need of wholeness, health,
restoration, righteousness, and life.
So my mother, sister, and I hobbled into
church one day holding our shattered lives
out to a God that loved us back together
again. We celebrated as a family and
learned that the Lord was our light and
salvation, whom should we fear (Ps. 27:1).
My mother took us to church and we grew up
learning right from wrong. I gave my life
to Christ in a Nazarene church as a little
boy and wasn’t ashamed about calling myself
a Christian. I knew when something wasn’t
acceptable, and knew if I did wrong that I
would have to face my mother. This fact
allowed me to realize a lot of things just
weren’t worth the trouble I would be in if I
did the deed.
My mother was a bulwark of stability for our
home. We were expected to live by her
values and principles. She was the reality
of our existence. We didn’t see the visits
with my dad as the norm; rather it was the
exception to the rule. She was a single
mother who taught pre- school in our home so
that she could always be there for us. She
was a saint and worked more then I ever
will.
Love and marriage
Because of my parents’ divorce I was haunted
by the fear that one day my marriage would
end up the same way as theirs. It was
paralyzing because I didn’t want to bring
such hurt into my future marital
relationship. I didn’t want my children to
have to go through what my sister and I did
as kids. Not just the divorce, but the two
approaches to life were so evident that I
wanted to find someone who would be in unity
with me spiritually and ideologically.
In many ways my parents never intended to
harm or distort our perspectives on love and
marriage, but the truth is, our choices
affect us and others. The real victim here
is the children, but also the spouses.
There are many spouses who are like my
mother, hurt but willing to continue trying
to live out the marriage vows. It is
impossible to force another to be
committed. There are many who feel so much
is out of their control, and truthfully it
is. The good news though is that children
are not blinded by what happens.
Perceptions of God
Even though my mother took my sister and me
to church on a regular basis after the
divorce it was still challenging to
implement some of the teachings into my
life. We were introduced to a God that was
bigger than our sins, circumstances, and
Satan. I struggled much of my life with
understanding God as a father. It was easy
to see Him as one who was not pleased with
our short-comings. It was also
understandable and clear for me to see His
holiness, perfection, omni-presence, and
other powerful attributes, but applying His
acceptance and unconditional love for me was
almost unnatural. I just assumed I would
tick Him off. It seemed my weaknesses were
too many for God to want to be with me.
Really, I felt that God would leave me as my
father had. It was a struggle that I didn’t
comprehend until probably my college years.
In my childhood there were a lot of
memories. I recall sitting with my mother
on the sofa learning my first Bible verse as
a young boy. Psalm 27:1, “The Lord is my
light and my salvation whom shall I fear..”
That was all I could get, but it is a
special verse to me still having learned it
at such a young age. Who would have thought
that choosing to teach your children Bible
verses would stay with them for a lifetime?
What we do affects us, and others.
And so we have seen my family in bits and
pieces. My father and I never lived
together for extended periods of time, yet
he influenced major portions of my
perceptions and actions. My mother was the
bedrock of my existence and she developed in
me strong life principles enabling me to
become a man with morals and integrity. My
sister is my friend and participator in this
life-story filled with ups and downs. What
does all of this mean?
Divorce is something generally unexpected.
Nobody gets married thinking they will be
divorced. It happens too often in our
generation though, and many kids have
stories similar to mine. There are a
multitude of variations too. Some have
never seen their father’s again; others see
them every week. Many have horrible
memories of parental abuse and neglect, and
others like me can name dozens of wonderful
memories with family members trying to keep
a sense of unity despite the disunity.
What I’ve learned from my parents’ divorce
Here is what I have learned. All of your
questions will probably never be answered.
Even if they are, many of the answers may be
unsatisfactory. To be honest, I am not sure
my dad could ever give a justifiable reason
for his leaving my mother and his children
for another woman and a career. I have
enough reason to be bitter with him probably
for the rest of my life, but I never really
wanted that. Somewhere along the path I
desired to know him, in the good and bad.
It has enabled us to develop a wonderful
relationship. I remember telling him that
yes it was a bummer that he wasn’t present
for my childhood like I needed him, but that
I loved him and was glad we had time to
build a relationship now. Even though you
may not get an answer that you like, talking
about it will help. It may prove to you
that they let you down even more than you
realized. It is in your hands now to either
forgive or embrace that which keeps you
separated. You don’t have to accept their
failings, but you can begin again in many
cases.
I would also encourage you to find a common
ground. Don’t center on things that will
ruffle the feathers. Be honest, but start
simple and move into it. It is IMPORTANT to
realize that you do not have to carry on the
tradition of divorce. It is a choice. The
reality of marriage is sacramental. Christ
wants to be present in marriage so that the
world can have a beautiful picture of His
love for us. We are His bride. See how
hurtful divorce can be to the beauty of what
Christ has for us? It is a diabolical
attack but it can be different for you as
you learn from your Father God, who will
never leave or forsake you. God enables us
to begin a new tradition. He is bigger than
your parent’s mistakes. Honesty and
forgiveness will help in healing
relationships with your parents, and God’s
love and greatness enables you to begin a
new path for future generations. Your
choices will matter for you and others.
This story is about pain and struggle.
There are good and bad memories. There are
also many reasons to be angry and hold a
grudge, but an opportunity was given to
practice forgiveness, and it has been the
better road. This is a small reflection on
a large journey. It is more of a big
picture, than focusing on specifics.
God is greater than our sins, our parent’s
sins, the world, the flesh and the devil.
You may feel caught in the current of your
parent’s mistakes but God is with you. This
is the beauty we have. His presence is what
gives us strength amidst our suffering.
Many kids ask the question why. Why would
God allow our parents to separate, knowing
how much it can impact us. I can only point
to the reality of free choice. We all have
the opportunity to the right or wrong thing,
and our choices will impact others. The
grace we are given, in our Church, the
Sacraments, the communion of Saints, Our
Lady’s loving mediation, all pour upon us
uniting us to Christ and His love. Just
because our family has struggled expressing
love towards us doesn’t change the perfect
love of the Family of God. He is present
with us.
I pray you realize Mary is pouring the
graces of her Son upon you even now.
God Bless you.
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