Life did change. It was different. Mom and Dad were different around each other. My weeks soon become a game of hot potato, where my brother and I would spend our weekends and Wednesday evenings being transported back and forth from one home to the other. I now had two homes, two rooms, and two different sets of rules. A child learns manipulation quickly when you have to remember to adjust your actions to meet the standards of the different rules. At mom's apartment, we only had to eat most of our dinner to get our dessert. At dad's, we had to eat all of our dinner or it would be kept in the confines of the refrigerator until it reappeared as breakfast the next morning. At mom's apartment, I had to share a room with my brother. At dad's, my brother and I each had our own room. At mom's, my brother and I brawled and fought (me being the instigator and my brother being the defender of his own honor). At dad's we seldom fought because we feared what would happen to us if we hurt each other. The clothes that we got from mom, stayed at mom's place. A suitcase was packed every Wednesday evening and every-other weekend for our stay at our mom's house. The rotation took its toll on me, my brother, and my parents.
Public meetings between my parents were often jaw-tensing and hostile. My dad's fiery Italian-German roots showed through in the way he interacted with my mom. My brother and I could tell that there were hard feelings on my dad's end, though we didn't know why until we were much older.
Looking back on the relationship my parents had, the rigorous sleep schedule, and the way my brother and I learned to deal, I can say that I would never want my own children to experience what I went through. Sounds cliche, I know. But, it's the truth. I don't want you to think that my brother and I had a terrible life, because we did not. Neither of us have every been convicted of a felony, nor have we abused any privileges or drugs, nor have we every committed any heino us crime for that matter. Well, that is unless you count the time my brother littered on the public bus in junior high, and had to be escorted home in the back of a cop car. No? Not going to hold that over his head? Darn. My brother and I had a good childhood, we live respectable lives, and we have values and strong beliefs about life because of how we were raised. We learned fast the difference between right and wrong, because we always got caught. We've grown up from our stage of amateur annoyances to more witty verbal-jabs. We have strong respect for both of our parents, and close relationships with both of them.
My parents do speak to each other in a more friendly tone now. They can even stand to be around each other in the same circle of people. It took nearly thirteen years and my dad's relationship with an old friend of theirs for them to socialize with each other like civilized people. One of my favorite pictures is from my high school graduation. The photograph is of me in my graduation gown flanked by both parents on each side of me. They both have their arm around me, which means their might have been some touching (watch out!), and they are both smiling. There used to be a time where a picture like that would not have looked the same, but now it's quite natural.
Divorce is a sneaky thing. Divorce is an evil thing. It has the appearance of an easy out to a less than pleasant marriage. Sometimes it's justified, and most of the time it is not. When a couple gets married, they exchange vows, promises to each other for the rest of their lives. I know we've all heard the typical vows on television and in the movies; Hollywood does a great job of portraying an American wedding. The bride and groom always exchange the vow "for better or for worse." Now, does that mean when times get tough one or both members are going to ditch-out on the promise they made for each other?
No! They just promised to stay together even when times are "worse." When times are "better," it's easy to work together; however, when times are "worse," people have a tendency of giving up: giving up on their partner and giving up on their self. Divorce is abused. Divorce has become a fall back for people when things get too difficult. Shouldn't it be that when things are difficult that you would talk to your partner, the person YOU chose to spend your life with? Seems too easy. Yet, this conundrum seems so prevalent in marriages (or lack there of) today. All I can say is that when I get married this year, I am going to make those vows to my husband and keep them. Come talk to me in one year, five years, twenty-five years, and I can promise that when times are tough he and I will not quit on each other. We will fight through it together, relying on each other and our God to help us through it. After all, I am marrying my best friend, the person I feel most comfortable talking to.