We are surrounded by the fantasy, by the love stories, by the Disney version of life. We raise our kids on it, we breathe it, we believe it will happen. Until it doesn't and by some cruel twist of faith you are the kid without the dad, or the one left with the borderline mom, or the child who gets left behind and really no one gives two thoughts about. We live in such an odd reality, one that often has me contemplating - how do we make it better for the kids?
If I had five dollars for every time I've been asked, "Wasn't what you went through and getting divorced all worth it?" Or mid-split and divorce I heard, "One day you'll find someone great and this all will be worth it," to which I'd catch myself wanting to cringe or punch the speaker in their heart and say, "One day that will be worth the pain, I promise because you'll never make such a careless remark to someone hurting so deeply".
Pain really has no purpose, except to tell you you are hurting and to slow down. I remember my surgeon telling me this repeatedly post op and at my check-ups. The purpose of pain was to slow me down, make me rest, and keep me from creating a bigger mess. Hence his hesitancy to medicate me beyond being able to acknowledge those signs of pain and over doing it. The pain of divorce is similar. It hurts beyond comprehension, especially when it's a dirty, nasty, no one wins divorce. The pain swallows you up and its sole purpose is to keep you from making a bigger mistake. The purpose of the pain I went through was to slow me down from creating more pain for myself, and I'm ever so grateful I gave myself permission to listen.
Today, five years ago I posted something on my social media about running a 3 mile stretch and hitting an 8 minute 50 second mile. This was a big deal, especially being post baby number four and going through a hairy divorce that I barely kept my head above the water while parenting 3 kids on my own, one of which who had all encompassing special needs to the point I never slept longer than 4 hours a night, and never in one stretch. I some how had slowed myself down enough to just live in the pain and get through each moment, focusing on breathing. Running forced me to breathe, it made me stop thinking and just move my body, sweat it out, and breathe. The irony in this post hitting today hit me in a warm spot in my heart. Ironic because I've finally started running and taking care of myself physically over the past three months and am slowly regaining my tempo, endurance and am breathing yet again.
I still get asked if it's worth it. I still want to punch people when they say it. Yes, HE is worth so much as is my youngest son who I never would have had without it. But there is no such thing as happily ever after. I still would give anything to have made my marriage work, not to ex though if I could redo it all. To not have to share my kids with someone else two weekends of the month and every other year of holidays. I would love to not have to ask for an act of congress just to get through normal parenting decisions for both my kids and the step-daughter between myself, my husband and the exes. I would love to not have to have wasted more time in court than anyone could ever imagine. I would love to not have the ability to represent myself so successfully, I've yet to lose a single court date. I would love to not have to go home and cry after those dates realizing how much I lost because I picked poorly and didn't see the writing on the wall, and how much the ex loses and how much my kids lose. I would love to not have to hold my children in my arms every other Sunday reassuring them life does get better and to not give up hope.
Do I love and adore my husband? Yes, in ways I've never loved before and he loves me in the exact same fashion if not more. Do I try to run from it all like crazy when I feel I'm far too vulnerable or it's going to get way too messy? Darn straight I do, I'm human. And if it weren't for his all encompassing, steadfast love we'd be a mess of a broken family. He has the maturity to see me through those fears and he works harder on those days. I work harder on the days it's not all roses and sunshine and he has to deal with the twenty meltdowns of kids who just want to be in one home and who don't understand mom and dad are in separate homes and he cannot fix it and he cannot magically glue us all together to be an unbroken family. We give and take and we take immeasurable grace, repeatedly to keep our family together. Not because we don't love each other, not because we aren't committed, not because we aren't a great and strong match. But because we are humans who have been hurt, used, thrown aside and have battled through the pain of divorces, being cheated on, and now come together as a very large family with needs of children who often times trump our own needs.
That's the other things intact families will never grasp. They have the luxury of being able to put their marriage before the needs of their children. Our family doesn't always get that luxury. We have 8 kids we have to put first depending on the situation. Always? No. But, often? Yes. Why? Because these children have already been broken and put last, otherwise their parents never would have divorced or split. And this is a very strong and poignant part of their lives where we have the opportunity to teach them that they are still worth it, they are still loved, they are able to reach out and have an intact love somewhere - at least in our home. Is this always? No, we cannot sustain that type of family unit. We are forced to put our faces to the oxygen masks and break for those moments when it's just us and our son at home. And we breathe in deeply, fully and fight to keep that oxygen between the two of us so that we can tend to the family and carry them through. You see, these families that come together after divorces and broke marriages - they aren't easy. They aren't pretty. They aren't even always successful, we know the odds of marriages after divorce tend to fall apart faster than the first marriages in this country do.
And that is where we find our hopefully ever after. In those moments of oxygen. In the moments the 13 year old says her step-dad is really the one who acts like her dad and she's thankful for him. In the moments when I want to run like hell because, well all the men in my life have bailed out anyways, why won't the most amazing one I've ever known follow suit? In the moments when the youngest daughter crawls up in my lap and asks me to cuddle because I haven't today and she has to go back to mom's tomorrow and she's going to miss me. In the moments of planning the oldest daughter's upcoming wedding and her mother asks for my opinion and to be involved in the planning. There is a grace in hopefully ever after. I don't believe we will always be happy, no couple ever goes through life happy one hundred percent of the time, that's a fairy tale not real life. No - real life is seeing what the world can throw at you and instead choosing to be hopeful.
And hopeful we are. Every stinking day. And when I'm not he steps up and has enough hope for both of us. And when he's not, I take over in the hope department. I look around us at this beautiful life we've created in this gorgeous home with our toys and joys, our jobs and our fun. It's a beautiful life, but with all beauty comes some thorns and hard times. We see our fair share with this family we are working to make our own with all the exes and ohs. And our fair share do we ever see! Some days we look at each other with disbelief, but for every unbelievable moment we are rewarded with more love and hope. God has been full of grace and love and our family is grateful daily.
So we live, hopefully ever after. Thankful to God for what he has brought to us. We aren't ignoring the past and we aren't making it all worth it, because sometimes pain and grief and agony don't need to be equated to the future being a passage of the past. Sometimes it's simply history and pain, best laid to rest. Sometimes it's the scars we build off of and learn to jump higher and further and not run from, despite how you want to with everything in you. Sometimes it's the story that makes you know you will hope with everything you have in you and continue to make it work. It's your story - ugly, scary, sad, full of grief and agony but from it came the person you are today and will continue to be tomorrow. It's our story, our hopefully ever after.
No comments:
Post a Comment