Lights in the Driveway
I remember it clearly. I walked into the bathroom and my mom was taking a bath. I was eye level with her. She looked at me plainly, even though I knew she was sad, "your dad and I are getting a divorce." I don't think I said anything. I walked into my parents' bedroom and my dad was standing at his dresser.
I asked him, "What is a divorce?" He stopped what he was doing but didn't look at me. I remember being as tall as his leg. I looked up to him, waiting for his response. He answered, "that means your mom and I won't be living together anymore." And that was it, I didn't know it, but my life would never be the same again.
It is odd to be a part of something, but have no idea where it came from or what it will do to your life.
Being a kid in a divorce is just that. Nothing will ever effect your life more, and you will never have less control of anything, ever again. Helpless, a victim, the collateral damage of a war you didn't wage.
My dad would visit our house. I don't remember the arrangements as I was only six, but I distinctly remember him rubbing my back till I would fall asleep. I could never fall asleep because I wanted to savor every last moment of him being there, I didn't want to spill a drop of his love, didn't want to sleep through an ounce of time. So I would stay awake. I wouldn't let him know though because as a child of divorce you quickly learn to protect your parents from your hurt, your sadness, your problems, your feelings. You never want to upset anyone because you know they are already dealing with a lot, why add your problems to theirs.
So I pretended to sleep. I pretended to be ok. I pretended to be alright with him leaving.
I would hear him creep to my bedroom door, open it and walk out. He would talk with my mom for a minute, open the side door and leave.
My bedroom looked out to the driveway and I could see him walk to his car. He drove a large maroon Lincoln Town Car with large square headlights that flipped around when they turned on.
I can see them now, the way the reflect off the driveway, shining so brightly into my bedroom window. I slide back away behind the shade so he can't see me in the window, I don't want him to know I am awake, I want him to feel happy that I am asleep.
The car begins to pull away. NO STOP! COME BACK! DON'T LEAVE! I AM AWAKE...PLEASE COME BACK! I'M NOT READY FOR YOU TO LEAVE ME YET!! PLEASE, I AM RIGHT HERE, YOUR DAUGHTER THAT LOVES YOU SO MUCH. PLEASE JUST DON'T LEAVE. I NEED YOU TO RUB MY BACK A LITTLE LONGER.....NO! NO! NO!.....
The car lights get farther and father away, then they turn, then pause, then pull away. By dad....
Oh how difficult it was to watch those lights leave. To watch my life separate and leave and not come back for days. Oh those stupid leaving lights. Was it really that bad? Could you really not figure it out because I don't want headlights in my memories, I don't want to see you leave, I don't want to pretend to sleep so you feel better about leaving me. I want to tell you to fix it, to stay and to be there in the morning.
God life is so tough sometimes. Memories won't leave even if you want them to. I will always be eye level to my mom as she takes that bath. I will always be looking at my dad's jean shorts as he rummages through his sock drawer and I will always be peeking though that bedroom window, and he will never hear me crying. Never.
I don't blame anyone, it is only my memory. It is the day that would change everything forever. It is life. I am divorced so I am not throwing stones, I made memories like these for my children, even though I knew I was doing so. It is not just about not getting divorced, it is about not marry the wrong person. It is to not give up when there is still love somewhere. It is to not check out when you have kids.
My friend told me the greatest bit of advice ever. It doesn't matter who you marry, but you better be really careful who you have children with... Because you never want your children to have to remember where they were, when their life changed forever.
How true, how very very true.
Thanks for reading. Make sure and check out other great stories in the Archives!
I asked him, "What is a divorce?" He stopped what he was doing but didn't look at me. I remember being as tall as his leg. I looked up to him, waiting for his response. He answered, "that means your mom and I won't be living together anymore." And that was it, I didn't know it, but my life would never be the same again.
It is odd to be a part of something, but have no idea where it came from or what it will do to your life.
Being a kid in a divorce is just that. Nothing will ever effect your life more, and you will never have less control of anything, ever again. Helpless, a victim, the collateral damage of a war you didn't wage.
My dad would visit our house. I don't remember the arrangements as I was only six, but I distinctly remember him rubbing my back till I would fall asleep. I could never fall asleep because I wanted to savor every last moment of him being there, I didn't want to spill a drop of his love, didn't want to sleep through an ounce of time. So I would stay awake. I wouldn't let him know though because as a child of divorce you quickly learn to protect your parents from your hurt, your sadness, your problems, your feelings. You never want to upset anyone because you know they are already dealing with a lot, why add your problems to theirs.
So I pretended to sleep. I pretended to be ok. I pretended to be alright with him leaving.
I would hear him creep to my bedroom door, open it and walk out. He would talk with my mom for a minute, open the side door and leave.
My bedroom looked out to the driveway and I could see him walk to his car. He drove a large maroon Lincoln Town Car with large square headlights that flipped around when they turned on.
I can see them now, the way the reflect off the driveway, shining so brightly into my bedroom window. I slide back away behind the shade so he can't see me in the window, I don't want him to know I am awake, I want him to feel happy that I am asleep.
The car begins to pull away. NO STOP! COME BACK! DON'T LEAVE! I AM AWAKE...PLEASE COME BACK! I'M NOT READY FOR YOU TO LEAVE ME YET!! PLEASE, I AM RIGHT HERE, YOUR DAUGHTER THAT LOVES YOU SO MUCH. PLEASE JUST DON'T LEAVE. I NEED YOU TO RUB MY BACK A LITTLE LONGER.....NO! NO! NO!.....
The car lights get farther and father away, then they turn, then pause, then pull away. By dad....
Oh how difficult it was to watch those lights leave. To watch my life separate and leave and not come back for days. Oh those stupid leaving lights. Was it really that bad? Could you really not figure it out because I don't want headlights in my memories, I don't want to see you leave, I don't want to pretend to sleep so you feel better about leaving me. I want to tell you to fix it, to stay and to be there in the morning.
God life is so tough sometimes. Memories won't leave even if you want them to. I will always be eye level to my mom as she takes that bath. I will always be looking at my dad's jean shorts as he rummages through his sock drawer and I will always be peeking though that bedroom window, and he will never hear me crying. Never.
I don't blame anyone, it is only my memory. It is the day that would change everything forever. It is life. I am divorced so I am not throwing stones, I made memories like these for my children, even though I knew I was doing so. It is not just about not getting divorced, it is about not marry the wrong person. It is to not give up when there is still love somewhere. It is to not check out when you have kids.
My friend told me the greatest bit of advice ever. It doesn't matter who you marry, but you better be really careful who you have children with... Because you never want your children to have to remember where they were, when their life changed forever.
How true, how very very true.
Thanks for reading. Make sure and check out other great stories in the Archives!
so well said. so well said.
ReplyDeleteI'm writing this with tears running down my fact. I could've written this myself. For a long time I thought there was something wrong with me because I remember every little detail, every painful little detail, I can't forget any of them.....and my sister, well, she doesn't seem to remember any of it. I finally figured out it's her way of coping; she blocked it out. I think everybody falls into one of those 2 categories; you remember it all or, you just block it all out.
ReplyDeleteFor me, my parents divorce came after years of fighting, anger and unhappiness. It also came about 2 weeks after my sister finished her last chemotherapy treatment. It was, still is and always will be, the worst time of my life. We stayed on KI with my Dad for a year because, well, it was all we knew how to do. It was horrible but that's another story :) My parents were too focused on themselves, one with their anger, the other with their new life, to be concerned with the fact that I was dying inside. I'd go for long long long walks and cry cry cry until I couldn't anymore, then I'd go home and pretend I was fine. My sister was my rock. I used to crawl in bed with her at night; I was 13 years old, she was 15, she never told anyone. I'm 33 years old now and if I sit down and think about it, it still brings me to tears. Finally, just recently, I was able to tell both of my parents how I felt, how this divorce had effected my entire life, my whole person. I thought it would help more than it did.
Sometimes, I really envy my sister, I wish I could just forget.
Thanks for sharing. It is wonderful that you had your sister there for you, you will always be so close because of that time in your lives. Sometimes we don't know why, but maybe it was to bring you both closer. It is good you told your parents, I have never had the courage to tell them. My mom reads this and called me yesterday and complimented me on my writing this. It meant a lot. I think we are so afraid of the truth, of being honest, or hurting anyone, we end up hurting ourselves for too long. It is all a process. Maybe write it down, all of it, I can tell you that writing all of this is very theraputic, I cry a lot, but it gets it out.
ReplyDeleteTake care.