Telling my Kids

I have a friend, who is beginning the process of getting divorced. After a long separation, it has finally been decided to formalize what has already happened several years ago. Divorce tends to happen emotionally first, before the late night anguished talks, tears on the pillow and lawyers letters begin.

When children are involved it is a particularly depressing event and they are a savvy lot from whom little can be hid.The best books tell you to tell them earlier rather than later. This event of "telling the children" is by far the worst part of the early cataclysmic events. You just don't destroy children's families lightly.

Roger, the old toad, had no problem telling me that it "was all over" and "he couldn't do this anymore." I always felt he took some perverse pleasure in hurting me thus. March 2008, was when he gave me the old boot. It was then decided that we would tell the children together. I had taken a trip to the local headshrinker to talk about the best way of doing things. Is there a best way of doing this? I came out with the book called, "Children and Divorce" which I gobbled up determined to try to do the worst in the best way possible.

Roger then took off on a long business trip leaving me to deal with the end of my marriage in peace. He flitted from one place to another, ignoring my pleas to tell the children and it was only in June, that he eventually came home to roost and tell the children. They had spent 3 months already watching me drive long distances, while tears streamed down my cheeks silently. Drive time seemed to be my cry time. The van had a flip down screen and I would put a movie on for the kids, crank the sound up and let the tears roll.

When the toad arrived home, he had bought large gifts for each child. The floor was littered with paper, making the lounge look like Christmas in June. They were so excited to have their dad home. Their spirits were high. It just wasn't fair.

After the greet and gift ceremony Roger had planned, we retreated at his request to my room. He lay on the floor and proposed the following. He was still stalling. He could stay in the house, the children would have a father and mother under one roof. He would continue to cheat on me, couldn't love me and the marriage would be a sham. I said "No thanks," It's getting late and we need to tell the children." I had had enough. I wasn't interested in any more of his shams.

Reluctantly he left my bedroom, for the last time. We called the kids together and told them that their parents were now getting divorced. We discussed who would go where and when and how often they would see their dad.We stressed that this wasn't their fault, just like the rulebook said we should. There were tears.There were at least 6 broken hearts that night. D, my eldest son, who had been horribly hurt by his fathers continued absences said, "Oh well, not much will change. You are hardly here anyhow."

Roger then asked if he could sleep on the couch. I said I didn't think it would be appropriate. He gave the children several long hugs and he was off. Santa Claws, with his box of tricks, broken promises and bad news. The children's lives have never been the same since.