My son had a play date last night. Another child from his hockey team and Tae Kwan Do team wanted to come over. I picked up the children, brought them to my place, ordered pizza and let them play and watch a movie. They had a nice time. It made me happy to know my son was comfortable in his environment. We've had friends over with the children, but they are usually children of my friends. This is different. These are his friends, and I don't know the parents well at all. It's a big difference, trust me.
During the drive home, the little boy asked my son when his dad will get home. My son matter-of-factly responded that his dad doesn't live with us, because his parents are divorced. I was shocked, as I've never used the "divorce" word in front of the children. I've usually just said that mommy and daddy aren't together anymore. My son picked up the divorce word somewhere, perhaps from his father. I'm not sure.
Either way, he was very comfortable talking about it. His friend didn't seem too awkward either. He asked "Why are they divorced? If they are divorced, how come I see your dad at hockey?"
My son responded that he goes to hockey with his dad, that he sees his dad when it's not a school day. His friend seemed OK with that answer. I was really pretending not to listen. I didn't want to interrupt the flow of conversation. This was, after all, the closest I will ever come to truly understanding how my children are coping. Why mess that up?
Then my son went on to say that we have been divorced since he was three. I started counting on my fingers...hmmm... It's been two and a half years, he is almost 7, so actually, nope he was four. Close enough I guess. My daughter was only 2 at the time.
In essence, we separated while the children were still very young. As a result, this divorced state has just become the life they've always known. My daughter doesn't have a lot of memories from before the age of 2, so most of her memories involve the two homes, two lives. She has scattered happy memories of the entire family unit, and I think that's OK. We did, after all, have at least a few good times together. It doesn't hurt for her to remember them. At least she didn't have to see any of the bad stuff.
The other day my daughter brought home a "family" picture that she made at school. It was a picture of her, of me, and of her brother. No dad. I said, "wow honey, what's this?". She responded that it was a picture of our family. I thanked her for the picture and put it on the fridge. I always hated the fridges with piles of children's artwork. But this one was just too special not to put up. To me, it meant that she had accepted things. She said that she would paint a separate picture for daddy's home. I told her that it was a nice idea.
I'm not sure if this means they have accepted the divorce, or if it means that they are comfortable enough talking about it. Both are good scenarios. I shiver at the thought that one day they might potentially get fed up with everything and just rebel, but I would rather not think of all the potential issues life might throw at me. Life is complicated enough as it is, and I certainly do not need to take on any additional stress.
So for now, I'll allow these tiny conversations, and the tiny "family" drawings that my daughter brings home from school to give me some comfort. It is after all comfort and reassurance that gives us the strength to continue on.
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