My brother suggested that the four of us see a therapist together, a family session. His thought was that it was as important as ever to keep all lines of communication open between all of us. Brilliant.
Four days later, sitting together for the first time since the “meet divorce” family meeting, we waited to be therapyized. Truthfully, I respect this particular therapist for agreeing to see us considering it wasn’t the norm. I can imagine that it is hard to handle one suffering patient, imagine handling four.
A lot happened during that meeting, yet there is one part that stayed with me for a long time. Towards the end of our session, the therapist recalled a moment she had during a previous one. She told us about one recently divorced patient who felt she was grieving a death, although no one had died. She wanted time to mourn. The patient had experienced the pain of losing a loved one, perhaps a parent, and every year she lit a candle of remembrance. This year, she imagined lighting that candle for her family. The end of a marriage is like the death of a marriage.
Her story stayed with me because the idea of a loss means that grieving and mourning happen genuinely. It’s not just the loss of a marriage, but of the glorified past and lastly the whole notion of a family unit itself. All those things were lost. What she said legitimized those feelings of deep pain and emotions.
I listened; I watched my father lose patience. At that moment, I was angry with the therapist for associating our situation with the pain of death; something I knew would set my dad off. My brother, mother and I felt the pain of immediate loss and shock; my dad did not. He constantly downplayed the significance of his decision and said we were overreacting. He hadn’t said much during the session and I was happy my dad agreed to see a therapist to begin with. What was she doing?! She was losing him for sure. As she concluded her story, it was clear she had made the mistake of telling it at all.
My dad disagreed calmly, as I knew he would, and said that the divorce was not at all like the tragedy of a death. Even if it was, he felt that our situation was different than the typical “divorce.” He couldn’t live in the same house as my mother anymore; it was that simple and had nothing to do with my brother and me. In fact, my brother and I were his greatest joy. I was a college grad pursuing a career in law and my brother was a Computer Science major at a top University, he was proud of our accomplishments. As parents, him and my mother raised us in nurturing environment full of love and mutual respect for one another. My parents were leaders in the community and had worked together to help with charity events as well as people close to us overcome tough times. Our family was special, always there for one another.
Divorce was simply a transition like any other, not a death of the family. He spoke about the positives in our lives, the good times my family had, and emphasized why there was no connection to death. He defended the “good family.” We were not raised in a broken home, but a home that valued family first. Although the divorce would be a change for my brother and I, we were fortunate to have had a wonderful family life growing up and it was important for us to remember that.
As he finished speaking, I felt my brother’s presence sitting next to me on the couch and wondered if he felt as heavy as I did. We were silent. We waited for the therapist to respond. The therapist listened to my father, looked at him and replied, “I’d like to point out, for the past few minutes you have been speaking in the past tense.”
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Four days later, sitting together for the first time since the “meet divorce” family meeting, we waited to be therapyized. Truthfully, I respect this particular therapist for agreeing to see us considering it wasn’t the norm. I can imagine that it is hard to handle one suffering patient, imagine handling four.
A lot happened during that meeting, yet there is one part that stayed with me for a long time. Towards the end of our session, the therapist recalled a moment she had during a previous one. She told us about one recently divorced patient who felt she was grieving a death, although no one had died. She wanted time to mourn. The patient had experienced the pain of losing a loved one, perhaps a parent, and every year she lit a candle of remembrance. This year, she imagined lighting that candle for her family. The end of a marriage is like the death of a marriage.
Her story stayed with me because the idea of a loss means that grieving and mourning happen genuinely. It’s not just the loss of a marriage, but of the glorified past and lastly the whole notion of a family unit itself. All those things were lost. What she said legitimized those feelings of deep pain and emotions.
I listened; I watched my father lose patience. At that moment, I was angry with the therapist for associating our situation with the pain of death; something I knew would set my dad off. My brother, mother and I felt the pain of immediate loss and shock; my dad did not. He constantly downplayed the significance of his decision and said we were overreacting. He hadn’t said much during the session and I was happy my dad agreed to see a therapist to begin with. What was she doing?! She was losing him for sure. As she concluded her story, it was clear she had made the mistake of telling it at all.
My dad disagreed calmly, as I knew he would, and said that the divorce was not at all like the tragedy of a death. Even if it was, he felt that our situation was different than the typical “divorce.” He couldn’t live in the same house as my mother anymore; it was that simple and had nothing to do with my brother and me. In fact, my brother and I were his greatest joy. I was a college grad pursuing a career in law and my brother was a Computer Science major at a top University, he was proud of our accomplishments. As parents, him and my mother raised us in nurturing environment full of love and mutual respect for one another. My parents were leaders in the community and had worked together to help with charity events as well as people close to us overcome tough times. Our family was special, always there for one another.
Divorce was simply a transition like any other, not a death of the family. He spoke about the positives in our lives, the good times my family had, and emphasized why there was no connection to death. He defended the “good family.” We were not raised in a broken home, but a home that valued family first. Although the divorce would be a change for my brother and I, we were fortunate to have had a wonderful family life growing up and it was important for us to remember that.
As he finished speaking, I felt my brother’s presence sitting next to me on the couch and wondered if he felt as heavy as I did. We were silent. We waited for the therapist to respond. The therapist listened to my father, looked at him and replied, “I’d like to point out, for the past few minutes you have been speaking in the past tense.”
This post makes so much sense to me! I want to show this to my Dad. He doesn't understand why his divorce from my Mum is such a big deal for my sister and I. I understand much better why I feel so confused, why nothing makes sense anymore. Thanks!
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I agree, I want to show this to my Dad too. He doesn't get how much it hurts. He thinks that the divorce doesn't change our relationship, just his and my moms relationship. Divorce is like a whole new world, you come out different on the other side no matter where you fall in the family.
ReplyDeleteExcellent blog. The 'offending' parent can only see themselves. Their needs, their happiness a bit like a 2 year old child really. They can get a new partner like it's no big deal but we can't get a new parental unit. We will never get our family unit back. They don't understand that. They don't understand that our lives have changed forever because of their choices.
ReplyDeleteExcellent blog. The 'offending' parent can only see themselves. Their needs, their happiness a bit like a 2 year old child really. They can get a new partner like it's no big deal but we can't get a new parental unit. We will never get our family unit back. They don't understand that. They don't understand that our lives have changed forever because of their choices.
ReplyDelete