Adult children of divorce unite

7 Mar

Perhaps I need a Facebook group where we can all get together and whine about how unfair it all is. (Did I just unintentionally date myself? Do Facebook groups still exist? The agony of getting older, it slowly seeps into my bones.) I recently had the world’s most awkward visit with my mother, before our vacation. My aunt had everyone over for lunch. I met my mom’s boyfriend. I guess it went well, all things considering. I didn’t stab anyone or burst into tears or passive-aggressively mention my daddy every five minutes.

At lunch, we told them all about the move. My mother… said nothing. She asked no questions, she had no comments. She ate her sandwich. My cousin’s children (ages 8 and 11, I think?) had more to say about it than she did. Everyone I’ve told has had an opinion, good or bad. Happy for me or confused, some have even been downright rude. But it’s something. It’s an emotion, a reaction, something to tell me that what I do and what I think matters to them in some way. I would think having your only child moving over a thousand miles away when your relationship is already unstable would provoke something.

That’s the knife that digs the deepest. I am mad she hurt my father, I am madder still she continues to hurt him in new and surprising ways that none of us expected. But if they’re not going to be together, then fine. That’s something I have to, and can, accept. It affects me but it’s not about me. It’s about them. However,  I am a stomach-churning combination of livid and heartbroken when I think about how… I just don’t factor in anymore.

I am probably the only adult begging for my mother to become more involved in my life.

The thing is, whatever connection we had? It’s been trampled and pulled apart and spit on and left outside in the rain. It’s a shadow of its former self. We were never close when I was growing up. I was a teenager and she was young too, and we clashed often. Many a screaming match was had over nothing and everything. We had slowly moved past that when I moved out. Turns out when no one is yelling and slamming doors you can make a lot of progress. We talked more than once a week, we’d hang out and go shopping. It was nice.

Now she quietly sits next to me at lunch. Whispers to her boyfriend. Calmly eats her sandwich. Leaves after 45 minutes. Posts thinly veiled digs on Facebook about aforementioned visit. I mean, 45 minutes. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in six months. I drop what I think is huge news and she goes on a social media site to whine about being ignored after ignoring me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I feel like I’m the one who did something wrong and I’m trying to repair the relationship. I feel like she’s a surly teenager and everything I try is shot down.

So I’ve stopped trying. And she never tried. And it all might be over if no one steps up to the plate soon.

The thing I don’t want to admit to myself is that this very well might be what she wants. She had me when she was quite young. If I were her, I’d have a nine-year old by now. So. New man, new life, new identity. No daughter.Perhaps it’s even something that I owe to her. Freedom after decades of servitude. A new start, a fresh take. A second wind.

I feel either way I go with the situation, I’m not going to be happy.


One Response to “Adult children of divorce unite”


  1. The ties that bind « older – nawt wiser - June 27, 2012

    […] don’t know if this is possible? Our last meeting wasn’t a total disaster, but it also wasn’t a resounding vote for a repaired […]

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