Divorce, A Memoir

The truth

I could feel something was wrong soon as I stepped into the apartment. It was gloomier than usual. Living in a first floor apartment does not help with light. We rarely had any sunlight coming through the windows, but this time, it was different. The silence wrapped the house, shutting out any outside noise. There were no dishes in the sink, no smell of recently made food, no giggles or fights or storytelling, no sign of, normal. My sisters were not at home. Confused, I started walking through the hallway leading to my parent’s room, trying to make sense of a distant conversation. Never has that hall been so dark and long. Maybe it was my imagination? I will never know.

Finally reaching my parents room, I slowly opened the door only to find my mother silently crying in a corner; my father standing next to the window looking out. My presence was not acknowledged until I called for mom. She finally looked up her eyes red and swollen from crying, her hands shaking. My father was quiet. I have never seen his eyes so empty, so dead.

I could not make sense of anything. I could not understand the silence. My mind was not broad with answers for such an unknown scenario. Never have I felt such confusion. I sat down next to her, hugging her, trying to comfort her. I could feel the softness of her skin. I could smell the sweet scent of her favorite lotion, vanilla and brown sugar, the same scent she’s been using since I was little. I remember finding that smell so warm, so comforting. I still do. My father, still standing next the window, stared at us. We exchange looks, but this time I saw something different, a sign of guilt.

I felt like I had been trapped in a trance with my mother forever when she finally found the strength to talk. She looked at me and started whispering that we were going to be alright that life continues, that not all couples last forever. Those last words made me understand the silence the house had been holding. My father did not say a word. My body started shaking. I could feel the blood draining from my head, but I found the strength to get up and walk away. I went out and started looking for my sisters. I found them happily playing outside with our neighbors. I sat down on the stairs and just looked at them trying to adjust my eyes to the brightness.

My little sister sat next to me and asked if I knew that our parents were getting a divorce. I could not believe the calmness of her voice or how there was no trace of crying. She told me how her friend’s parents were divorced too and how normal it is. It felt like my sister was playing psychologist with me. This made me furious! Am I the only one in shock? Am I over reacting? Are these things normal? Am I the only one who did not see it coming? I did not know, neither did I know the reason why. I got up and went to sleep wishing everything would vanish.

The following months were misery.

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