We had dinner last night with three people who help make up our family in a way not studied in 1970’s Home Economics courses. They are three as well; two girls and mom. A girls’ house, a pink place, a hot house of hormones. 2 times per week we set the table with double the placemats for a feast of food and stories.
Last night was a a little different. We were asked by CBC to record one of these famous and beloved dinners. We placed a recorder between us and hit some hard questions while we ate.
“What was the hardest part about getting over a divorce?” (Moms and daughters point of views)
“Did you feel any stigma or are we a divorce accepting society now ?”
“What does a happy family look like?”
“How do you watch the “intact” families around you and not be jealous?”
“How do you find comfort and confidence with what you have?”
“What is your idea of a good life after divorce?”
Answers spilled out easily, some surprised, some shocked, some predictable. A few spoke through mouthfulls, eager to share, occasionally there were cracking voices under the weight of the subject, many times funny things were thrown out.
My favourite question was ” paint a picture of a moment when you knew everything would be okay”. One of my daughters told the story of telling her best friend at school who had responded with love and a reassurance so astute for a 10 year old I sent a note to her parents congratulating them on raising an incredible human being. My take on the same story was that I went through the pockets of my daughter’s jacket before washing it. I found the typical stuff-rocks, leaves,an elastic band, a hair clip, ABC gum and a scrunched up note. It was a conversation between the two of them from that day. I realized the depth of who she was and how she felt her story. I cried -half in relief and half in awe of her life outside of mine. I had been encouraging my children to “tell” but they were private and knew they could feel ‘normal’ as long as they kept it in. I could relate to this so completely but wanted for them the good that comes from facing the hard stuff.
I went to her with the note and asked how it went. She told me she had dreamt the night before that she had told her closest friends and that it was fine. This gave her the confidence, the “sign” to do it. I looked at her the way I looked at her after she was born like I was looking at a beautiful miracle.
One of her moments that it was going to be okay had been one of my moments
beautiful!!!