Divorce

Divorce

By Krissie Gault

“I am sorry you had to deal with that.”

You say in the midst of the conversation

I give a small smile.

I don’t know if you see it;

I don’t care if you do, but inside, I’m thinking,

“Why are you sorry?

You had nothing to do with what happened to me.

You were not a factor when my parents were screaming.

When my mother yelled like a banshee and my father drank.

I was 11 and naïve.

I hid away in my room.

Curled up in yarn, surrounded by dolls,

I created plays - their fights outside

Tuning into a low hum almost like a lullaby.

Why are you sorry?

I cheered at the divorce.

I didn’t understand the word at first,

But I understood what it meant to break up.

I understood what it meant to separate.

For at school, I was separated from the others

Because I was ahead in math by a grade

And behind when it came to English.

Strange now that I write for a living

And I’ve no care for numbers much.

But a child knows separation.

To be moved from one classroom to another

In the middle of the day

And only in 2nd grade when you’ve never been in public school before.

Yes. I knew separation.

And I understood it well.

And while I didn’t understand divorce at the time,

I understood enough.

Mommy and daddy are separating.

They’ll no longer be together.

That’s all I needed.

All I needed to cheer.

To smile and feel the relief.

Because at 11, hiding away, quiet as a mouse,

I felt the acid.

The bomb and the idea that home may one day no longer be there when I got off the bus.

To me, divorce was a ray of sunshine

Coming from the sky, singing angel’s songs

And I cheered.

Cheered that I’ll no longer here the lullaby of screams

Wondering why the banshee is screaming

The sloppy stomping of an electrician’s boots on the floor

Going to a room to watch a game,

The arguments continuing till the morning and repeating.

To me, divorce was an end.

A freedom and release.

And you are sorry.

Sorry for what?

You, my beloved aunt, view divorce as bad

You’ve been through it before

Your parents called you in one by one

“Who do you want to live with?” They asked.

And you, the youngest, was last.

Your brothers crying and you confused.

You were about the same age I was.

To be asked on Christmas Eve

I’ll never understand that pain.

That pain is yours.

But I want you to understand,

It’s not your fault.

You have no reason to say, “I’m sorry.”

You have no need to be sorry.

You have done no wrong.

We have both dealt with our parents’ divorce.

And while divorce has left a bad taste in you,

It gave me relief.

You cried. I cheered.

I loved both my parents now

With all their virtues and flaws.

But if there is one thing I can not stand

It is people saying, “I’m sorry,” for things they have no need being sorry for.

You’ve no need being sorry for the things I cheer for.

I love you and sympathize with your feelings of divorce

But there is no need tell me “I’m sorry”

There is no need for that.

I cheered.

I will continue to cheer for all time for that divorce.

And for that, there is no need for you or anyone to say, “I’m sorry.”