I shouldn’t even have seen the email, simply titled “News,” until the next morning, but I go to bed way too late and when I noticed it was from my mom, I clicked on it.
“I’m sending the same message to your brother,” she had written. “Your sister already knows, I had her on the phone. I decided your father and I should no longer live together—basically, I told him to leave. It’s easier to type it than to say it. Sorry.”
It felt like a kick in the guts. Half sleepy, I read the message over and over again until the words were imprinted on my mind but they still didn’t make sense. Then I went to bed, because what else could I do?
“I have to call my mom,” I told Feng the next morning. “I think my parents just decided to…”
I was at a loss for words. “Divorce” wasn’t the correct term—they never got married because it’s a bourgeois institution. “Split up” didn’t seem to be the right word either. You “split up” with a date, not when you’ve been together for almost forty years.
“I think my mom told my dad to leave,” I eventually said. “No idea what’s going on.”
“Well, could it be because your father…”
Yeah, it could be.
Context—you probably need some. If you ask me, my smart, kindhearted and artistic parents succeeded at a lot of things. Like, my two siblings and I hang out with them for fun and none of us use drugs more than necessary—yay, A+ for parenting! However, like many French, my parents never got ahead in life. Even though they are very educated and have always been working, they are struggling and this is not the result of bad life choices. Ten years ago, my dad decided to go back to being a full-time artist—not the safest and steadiest career path, so their financial situation got worse.
“Good luck,” Feng said, clearly not getting involved in some French drama.
I don’t blame him. I use the “good luck” line when he deals with his own Chinese drama.
I grabbed some coffee.
My mom and I are close. As far as I knew, she had gotten sick of the lifestyle, but not necessarily of my dad. Maybe it was “just” an ultimatum because she was tired of being the responsible one and really, my dad had to get his shit together.
I launched Skype.
No matter how much coffee you ingest, there’s absolutely no easy way to call maman to ask why she told papa to leave.
There’s also absolutely no way to be prepared for an answer you don’t expect.
It wasn’t “just” the lifestyle and my dad’s apparent inability to understand you need money to live on. The problem was much, much deeper than I had thought and involved an oh-so-French cliché.
I was taking a shortcut through the Experimental Farm when I called and I had to find a rock to sit on.
Have you ever had all your beliefs shattered in five minutes or less? That’s how I felt. I was completely confused—we had gone completely off-script. I thought I know my parents, their respective strengths and weaknesses and I really thought they loved and respected each other.
I hang up with my mom and did the most illogical thing—I called my sister. I had never ever called my sister. We don’t have this kind of relationship. Over the years, we went from hostile to friendly but we don’t… well, talk, I suppose.
Yet, I called her and we talked. It was weird. The whole day was weird.
“Note that they don’t seem to be fighting for custody,” I joked. “With my luck, I’m going to end up with dad who can’t cook.”
“Shall we call him? And by that, I mean can you call him?”
I sighed. Being the oldest sibling sucks sometimes but I wanted to hear the other side of the story. My parent’s relationship isn’t technically my business but I needed to know if one of them had been an asshole.
Third phone calls of the morning. My father picked up right away.
“M. X? We need to talk.”
“What do you know?”
He sounded like a child about to be chastised. He sounded like he was scared of me.
“Everything. More than I wanted to know, frankly. And before you ask, I’m calling on behalf of your other two kids. We played paper-rock-scissor. Clearly, I lost.”
Let me put it this way—I read a lot, fiction, non-fiction, and magazines but absolutely none of the life-related material I have been ingesting since the age of four (early reader) had prepared me to ask my father if he had slept with another woman.
Tip—this question is best asked bluntly.
Also, can we go back 24 hours to when I thought my parents’ relationship was rock solid and when I was the child?
“Troubleshooting” with my dad took a couple of hours. I hang up fairly convinced that he had indeed screwed up but not screwed around which is a major difference in my book and in the relationship I have with him.
I called my sister back to report on the latest findings, the second phone conversation in years but the first of many—at this point, I just bought more Skype credit.
This was last November. Another sad, unrelated family event happened shortly after, causing more emotional turmoil. For a while, my heart sank every time I was getting an email from my parents or siblings—surely, it wouldn’t be good news.
My dad refused to tell us where he was and what his plans were for a few months, which was both worrying and suspicious but, in the end, everything made sense and nothing was suspicious. I was hoping he would sort things out with my mom but as far as I know, they haven’t been in touch.
Both of my parents seem okay. My dad moved to a different part of France, my mom’s life hasn’t changed much although she sounds happy. They never mention each other.
So why am I crying right now?
Because their separation affects me more than I thought it would—and my parents splitting up was never on my long list of worries in the first place.
It feels completely unreal.
You’d think it’s easier to deal with such a mundane life event when you’re an adult and not a helpless child. It probably is, but as an adult, you also understand things—or try to—at a deeper level. I keep on wondering what I missed and how it went so horribly wrong. In a way, their relationship was a model to me and it makes me question my own relationship with Feng. Am I going to wake up one day and realize I’m living a life I don’t want and I made too many sacrifices?
Most of all, I find it terrifying that you can apparently spend forty years with someone and then one day leave and start a new life without this person. Really? Is it this easy?
There’s a practical aspect to it too—it was comforting to know my parents had each other, it’s deeply upsetting that they are apparently better off without each other.
I may have reacted differently if I had seen it coming, if one of them was abusive or if I had grown up in a hostile environment. In this case, the separation may have seemed like a ceasefire. But I didn’t hear the gunfire in the first place.
It’s been six months. I’m not angry with either of my parents, I’m just sad. It wasn’t supposed to end like this… was it?
Damn, it hurts.
Oh no!
So sorry for you!
Of course it’s a shock and it’s weird and you have every right to be upset, especially if they seem to do fine, like nothing happened.
And being far, it must raise a lot of questions too.
You’re so brave talking about it, let it all out and remember you are not your parents, you’ll learn from it what you can learn, and find your way to move on.
xoxo
Meh, I’m not sure it’s brave… but strangely, writing the article helped me see clearer and distance myself from it a bit. And the comments are also surprisingly helpful. I mean, I always enjoy comments, but they resonate with me even more this time.
But it actually is brave.
🙂
And even if it was not #teamzhuforever
Lol lol lol
Meh… a good catharsis, for sure!
Am sorry for you.
I remember the post last year on your papap’s studio.
Hope the five of you can get through this.
I’m sure we will! We’re all… well, people with a pretty regular set of issues!
Je suis très profondément touchée par cet article. Mes parents fêteront leur 50e anniversaire de mariage en 2020 et je ne peux pas imaginer qu’ils se séparent un jour … c’est juste inconcevable pour moi.
Pourtant je suis moi-même divorcée de mon premier mari et père de mes 2 aînés.
Ce n’est pas très logique ni très juste … mais j’aurais vraiment du mal à comprendre et à accepter leur séparation si cela devait arriver un jour. Comme si leur couple était un modèle pour toujours et qu’ils n’aient pas le droit à l’échec eux aussi.
C’est très difficile de définir en quoi une séparation (la notre, celle de parents proches ou lointains, celle d’amis) peut détruire notre confiance en la vie … mais je pense que ta réaction de sidération et de tristesse est très normale.
Pour ma part je considère toujours mes parents comme un ancrage solide et indestructible et intellectuellement je sais que c’est une chimère évidemment ! Nul couple n’est à l’abri d’une crise.
Excuse le commentaire un peu long mais bon bref tout cela pour dire que je compatis énormément.
Je te rejoins dans cette notion d’ancrage, je crois que c’est ce qui me trouble le plus. Ce que je pensais être solide visiblement ne l’était pas.
Après, je ne suis pas sûre qu’il faut voir les séparations comme des échecs, surtout lorsqu’un certain chemin a été parcouru et qu’il y a quand même eu des moments heureux. Vois-tu la tienne comme un échec? Ou la fin d’une aventure?
Aaaaahhh, vaste question …
Mon côté cartésien me fait dire que mon divorce était la meilleure chose à faire, car malgré tous les moments heureux au fil des 26 années de relation et 19 années de mariage, nous étions arrivés à un point de non retour, une relation sans amour et sans respect … j’ai tout essayé pour préserver la relation “pour les enfants” (classique), mais cela était arrivé au point où je me détestais de faire tous ces compromis pour au final être malheureuse au quotidien.
Malgré tout, mon côté idéaliste et bêtement romantique me fait dire que oui, c’est un échec personnel. Nous avons échoué à sauver notre relation malgré les difficultés. Et se rajoute la culpabilité d’avoir fait subir cette séparation à nos deux enfants.
Aujourd’hui je suis remariée à un homme très différent et avec qui je vis une relation plus profonde et plus sincère. Je n’aurais pas pu le rencontrer si je n’avais pas décidé de quitter mon 1er mari.
C’est ce que je souhaite à ta maman.
Merci de ton analyse honnête! Effectivement, je crois qu’on se perd à faire trop de compromis. Je crois que c’est la leçon que je retire de l’expérience de mes parents. Ça prend du courage de se séparer, donc de mon point de vue, tu n’as pas échoué. L’échec aurait été de continuer sur le mauvais chemin qu’un jour la relation a pris, et de rester malheureuse 🙂
Argl, zut. Je n’aime pas parler de ce qui se passe chez moi, mais tout n’est pas toujours rose, même si en effet, de mon point de vue il n’y avait pas de problème.
C’est drôle comme on pense y voir clair, en tant d’adulte… pis en fait peut-être pas finalement.
I remember reading a few articles about the impact of divorce on adult children and how it can shake people to their core.
I totally understand what you’re saying about the fact that they seemed like a stable part of your life and something that you shouldn’t need to worry about.
Your feeling are 100% normal and I think anyone in the same situation would also question things on their end.
I know when I saw couple break up around my ex and I (peers who had been together a long time too) it got me thinking. And our separation meant I lost friends, some I think because it “scared them”. Not the same thing at all, but from the outside we were solid and it made other question themselves too.
40 years is a long time, it sounds like they lived a lot together and I would say raising a family and loving each other for so long is a success.
And it also goes to show life is never “over” and it’s never too late to start again?
The fact that they are both finding their way again, including your dad who seems to have needed some space, means that they are resilient and capable of standing on their own. Skills they picked up / kept during a long mariage which is great and healthy?
I bet your next trip to France will be… strange?
And nothing like your parents “misbehaving” to bring all the siblings together!
If you ever want to chat, let me know.
Also, can 100% relate to “add Skype credit to deal with crisis”
Funny, I actually did a search on parents separating when kids are adults when I was writing the article, and I noticed it was more common than I had thought. The feelings we’re experiencing are also common.
At this stage, I’m not sure I worry too much about my parents–they seem okay, each in their own way I suppose. Still, there are aspects of the event we need to talk about.
Je comprends tout à fait ce sentiment. Je me demande si on ne le vit pas encore plus vivement lorsqu’on est à l’extérieur. On a tendance à se raccrocher à cette part de notre enfance «stable». Tout à coup, on revient, et les choses ne sont plus pareilles. Ça prend du temps à accepter.
I hope I’ll get there eventually… I still find the situation stupidly sad.
I’m so sorry. I know that’s tough. My parents divorced and us (the kids ) were not surprised but it was tough on my mom 🙁 .
Lots of hugs xoxo
I’m so taking this hug! 🙂
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