Chaos,  HomeLife,  Story

the divorce diaries – entry 6

 

I am living in this tension between two cultures – two ideas of right and wrong and normal and broken.

This wild and difficult juxtaposition between the views of divorce.

On the one hand, you have:

The Huffington Post
Facebook
Television
Movies
Your second cousin

And all of these sources tackle the topic of divorce in about the exact same way:

This is just the way it is.
It’s normal.
Cut out the toxic people in your life.
You deserve to be happy.
You need to take care of you first.
Be your own boss.
Follow your heart.
The kids will be fine.
Monogamy is outdated.
Kids are resilient.
Everyone is happier after their divorce.
It’s better for the kids.
Some marriages can’t be fixed.
Your kids will have more families to love them.
You can’t truly expect someone to be faithful to one person their entire lives.

And on the other hand, in the circles I actually live in and breathe in, in the realms and the families with which my children daily come into contact and move and play and are alive around, it’s a different story:

Almost none of my children’s friends live in single parent homes.
Moms and dads are still married to one another.
There is a moral standard to attempt to adhere to.
The desire to fulfill a Biblical guideline is strong.
Marriage is about sacrificial love.
Commitment is possible.
Loyalty is encouraged.
Working through the hard and staying the course is admirable.

I still live and work where people assume you are married and talk about your husband as if that is a given.

I don’t know if that’s true everywhere.  I don’t have to know if that’s true everywhere.

I don’t live everywhere.  My children aren’t being raised everywhere.  They are being raised here.

In this town.  Where their friends’ parents are still married and they don’t have any classmates or buddies whose parents are divorced.  They feel alone and one of a kind.

I’m an anomaly in my friend circle locally.

The only single, divorced mom.

People I meet currently still talk as if the assumption is that there is a husband somewhere at home, waiting for me and the kids to go to each evening.

We’re not living in a community full of politically correct, gender neutral, watch your words, kind of people.

(And that’s fine with me.)

In my town I still get the question, “What’s your husband do?”

Especially in homeschooling circles.

At a recent homeschooling conference the speaker cracked jokes about the dads at work or the husbands involved in the education process – all natural and normal things to joke about in a crowd predominately filled with homeschooling mothers and wives.

Should the speaker reword his rhetoric?

No.  Of course he should not.

Please don’t, in fact.  Don’t begin using extra words and dancing around with too many syllables and too many sounds just to avoid the potential discomfort of an audience member.  You can’t find words to fit all situations and that is equally insulting and painful, frankly.

Please don’t reword your talk for me.

But, in the meantime, in the middle, in the place where I homeschool and do laundry and balance the budget, it’s a tightrope kind of life.  The gaping open cavernous mouth of divorce trying to swallow us all up whole while we balance precariously between the world that says I’m making too big of a deal about this whole experience and the world that says the broken we are feeling is legitimate.

I know what we feel.  I know what our hearts ache and tell us in the quiet evening hours and in the early morning times and in the face of busted family traditions and bittersweet family memories.

I know the price we are paying.  Tender kid hearts and mixed up emotions and more responsibilities and questions that can never be answered.

In the end – or in the middle, more accurately – I guess it doesn’t much matter what my cousin or Facebook or all the website articles tell me about divorce and its outcomes and its effects.  I guess – here in the middle – it matters most what the faces of the children I live with tell me.

 

_____________________________

 

 

14 Comments

  • darrell powell

    Ok ..I’m going to say this and its going to hurt Lacey. He’s gone. You have stood up and paid the price and are moving on down the road. Its time, not for the Kids but for the kids mama to move on and start looking for a soul mate. You are not complete without a man just as a man is not complete without a woman. Make it so. We are praying for you.

    • laceykeigley

      Thank you sharing your heart with me Darrell.

      I can’t say I am in total agreement with your words here, but I do appreciate your desire to share your thoughts with me.

  • Polly

    There are so many words I want to say. But I know that none of them will “fix” things… So instead I will say: I love you and your kids. I love that you are clinging to the cross… Even if its for dear life. I love you.

    • darrell powell

      Thank you. and we are clinging. Apart from Him we are nothing. I ask my self every day why is He so good to me of all people.
      When Tiff told me that kevin left you she also told me that Dr. Thompson and his wife had divorced. I sat down and cried like a baby. Then I cried some more. I just don’t understand.

  • Elizabeth

    Brave and wise words, and behavior. I was the only divorced mom in my VA neighborhood from moving there in 1985 until I moved to remarry in 1990. My son was accepted although I was never included. Preschool and early elementary school years in a Southern Baptist neighborhood. All new to me. Lonely. But while your town/neighborhood may consist mostly of married families there might be a youngish widow going through much the same. And while it is good to try to make a marriage work, it is not always possible. Your children know you love them. That is all that matters now.

  • Shelley

    I applaud your courage and vulnerability and authenticity in speaking these words, Lacey! Thank you for allowing us to be a part of your journey.

  • Lana

    Absolutely. Hugs to you all. I’m sorry for what he has put you and your children through just because he believed the lie that the grass was greener elsewhere.

  • Tab

    The faces of the children! It’s crazy hard to grow as a child when suddenly surrounded by a different mold and you don’t seem to fit anymore. My middle and highschool years were just that. You are graciously being shown to remember the faces of your children in the midst of also needing to be remembered. Listen to their hearts, allow them to be angry, and hold them tight.