Saturday, March 16, 2019

Not Normal

I can tell by the looks on people’s faces when I tell them.  

It’s anything from mouth-slightly-open-for-a-moment-before-they-catch-themselves-and-then-offer-an-obligatory, “oh, that sounds nice.” 

To shock.  “REALLY?”  “Wow.” “I cannot believe you do that.” 

To the questions.  “How does that work?” “Where do you stay?”  “Don’t y’all fight?”   

Then to the blatant -sometimes quite rude- comments.  “That’s just weird.” “I thought the goal was to get away from your ex.”  “I would NEVER…”

Then I hear about people saying things to other people, like, "I mean, why did they divorce in the first place?" Or “I just don’t understand them.” 

It’s really for no one to understand but us, though.  And truthfully, we probably don’t even understand sometimes. 

But it’s true.  I’m spending Spring Break with my son, daughter, ex-husband, his wife, and my significant person.  We also spent Christmas together.  Easter, too.  And even took my son on a trip to watch the Saints play in New Orleans for his 12th birthday.

Ok. I acknowledge it’s extraordinary.  And by extraordinary, I mean not normal.  But what is normal anyway?  I’ll get to that in a minute.  I also mean, extraordinary - that we are even able to do it.  Most people say they could not.  But I don’t believe that.  It’s just a matter of where you put your focus and how easily you’re able to let go.  Really let go.   

When we parted 8 years ago, it was acrimonious.  As most divorces are.  There were hateful texts, property disputes, arguments… just general vitriol toward each other, compounded by the absolute way we were shattered every time we said goodbye to our children and sent them off to their other parent’s home.  Something was born from those shattered pieces, though.  We agreed back then to legally share custody of our son and daughter.  A true 50-50 split in both decision-making and time spent together.  Everyone warned that it was tough to do it because of the amount of communication required and because of the fact we would have to see each other a lot.  We did it anyway.  We also agreed that a parent was greater than anyone else in their lives, meaning, if the children were with him on “his day” but he had to work, for example, I was the go-to, rather than a sitter.  If neither was available, then someone else.  

So here we were, two adults who once chose to marry and have two children.  Who then chose to divorce.  Who now have to forge some type of relationship moving ahead.  I suppose we didn’t “have” to forge that relationship, but we meant it when we said that our children came first and that they needed both of us moving forward.   

No need to belabor, but it was not pretty during those first years.  Tough for everyone. I remember reading somewhere that it wasn’t a divorce that affects children, as much as how parents act after the divorce that hits them hard.  I read that if the fighting continues, so does damage to the little ones.   So we tried to stop fighting.  We got used to seeing each other at games, in the morning before school drop off, weekends when the kids would ask if we could eat together first before going to their “other house.”  We didn’t give false hope of a reunification.  Just tried to put differences aside, for them.  

One day, I remember going through old pictures.  I was going to throw a bunch out, and I casually mentioned it.  He said to me, “No!  Give them to me before you do that.  Just because we’re divorced doesn’t mean that isn’t part of our family history.”   I recall thinking, that's a pretty great way to look at it.  Simply as history.  My children’s history.  Laughs, love, vacations, births of babies.  I think that's when I began to soften.  I very slowly started to let go of all the hurt and hate.  I believe he did the same thing. 

It took time, but a beautiful friendship unfolded.  We were able to ask how each other was doing.  We offered each other support when it came to parenting and the general well-being of everyone.  Months became years, and, suddenly, it wasn’t so terse. 

Soon, he met someone, and so did I. The children love each of them dearly.  And they each love our children.  I don’t believe I could ask for any more.  I adore their stepmother.  She adores the children, and they love her dearly. She is incredibly kind and generous.  My “friend” is the CEO of fun, always pushing for adventure.  He and my ex get along very well. 

Back to whether it’s normal.. is any family situation? And who really cares?  In my role as a storyteller sharing stories of children in foster care up for adoption, I’ve seen versions of happy families no one ever could’ve dreamed.  Sadly, I’ve seen the opposite, too.  Children seem to thrive where there’s stability and love.  No matter what that looks like.  This isn't necessarily what I dreamed up for my life, but it's stable.  And there's a whole lotta love. 

So here we are, at the beach for Spring Break.  In the same big beach house, with enough space for everyone.  Drove down in the same car (yes, people ask us these questions!).  Their dad reminded before we planned it (and were considering doing something separately), we only have a few spring breaks left with them before they won't want to go with us anymore."  THAT is why we do this.  

Their step-mom sweetly joked, “maybe we should all wear our white shirts, khakis, and take a beach picture for Christmas cards! That would really freak people out!”  Kidding aside, I’m finished rambling... with one reminder.  Why judge?  Let go of the hate and how you think it should look.  Love one another. Be good to each other.  You never know where it will lead…  xoxo



All of us on the most beautiful day (from my son’s birthday trip)