Photo by Ron Lach
Broken Routine
My Mom was a woman of routine.
Dependable, constant, repetitive,
predictable, uninteresting,
to my immature twelve-year-old mind.
Every week day—she got me ready for school.
Every afternoon— “Go upstairs and do your homework.”
Every weekend— “Go outside and play.”
Every evening—she fixed our dinner.
Every bedtime— “Goodnight, Honey.” Kiss. “I love you.”
(Me) “Goodnight, I love you, too.”
Until one night, she wasn’t.
“Goodnight, Honey,
(pause)
I just wanted to let you know that
Daddy’s and my divorce was finalized,
(pause)
and tomorrow,
(pause)
I won’t be married anymore.
(Sobs. Hands over eyes.)
I’m sorry.”
(Sorry for getting emotional.)
What? Mom’s crying? (I’ve never seen her cry before.)
(I say nothing.) What should I say? (Awkward silence.)
“… Well, goodnight again.” Kiss. “I love you.”
(Me) “Goodnight, I love you, too.”
And, all this time, I thought she thought the divorce was a good idea…
like Dad said it was.
© 2023 gratefulsue
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Our parents protect us from so many things when we’re young. I basically had no idea how devastated my mother was when she learned that my father was having an affair and wanted a divorce. She was a very private person and mostly hid her negative emotions from my older sister and me. My father had talked to us about the divorce like it was just a natural part of life. Relationships change over time. Sometimes it’s best to divorce. I was disappointed, because I feared I wouldn’t see my dad as much, but he assured me I would, and more or less, I did.
Nevertheless, the above childhood memory reminds me that my parents mostly sheltered me from anything unpleasant. That is until, on this particular night, my mom couldn’t hide it anymore. For the first time in my immature life, I was suddenly exposed to and cared about my mom’s feelings. Sadly, I just didn’t have the words at that age to validate her pain.