“Broken” Homes

195 Marbles 

    My daughter cried herself to sleep last night over not having a family that was “normal” and lived together.   I held her and tried to tell her that we are normal – normal for us.  I also told her that there are some situations in life that you can’t change and rather than butting your head up against them, you just have to let go and adjust.  I listened to her tears and sadness and felt my guilt well up -  the guilt of Ex-man and me choosing to separate - a choice that affected her childhood. 
    When I was growing up, children from divorced parents were described as coming from “broken” homes.  When my eldest son’s father and I got divorced he was only a toddler.  When he was about four, he started asking me why I wasn’t still with his father (he could see that we got along well and didn’t fight).  I tried to explain to him that we had both chosen to end the relationship - that it wasn’t working for us.  He replied, “But I didn’t choose.”  In that little sentence I felt a world of responsibility.  Years later that weight kept me staying in a relationship with Ex-man long after its shelf-life had expired. 
    But what exactly is a broken home?  At first glance, the label seems negative - like there’s something that was whole that is now fractured or incomplete.  Yet there are many things that are broken that allow for more - like a broken egg shell that allows a bird to hatch or the split cocoon of a butterfly.  So maybe that’s what it comes down to - if a relationship doesn’t allow the people in it to keep growing, sometimes the home splits apart to allow for more. 

If this rings a bell, what would it take for you to forgive yourself for the breakup that changed the landscape of your kids' childhood?