When Your Parents Divorce Late In Life

Katie Crouch declares, “There is something decidedly disorienting about becoming a child of divorce at 40”:

For one thing, my brother and I are extravagantly late to the party. During the first wave of divorces among my parents’ group when I was 8 or 9, I pined for the family breakup. It wasn’t that I was terribly miserable. (Moderately, maybe.) The real draw was that the attention seemed glamorous. … At 40, for me my parents’ separation draws no pity slumber parties, no new cars. Blank stares are usually what I get when I drop the sad news. Though it rarely comes up. Why would it? There are no arrangements to make to pick me up from dance class, no birthday parties to choreograph.

What does it mean, when your parents split apart after you yourself have lived half of your life? For one thing, there isn’t a shred of innocence left. I know exactly what my mother and father are losing, because I’ve known these people for four decades. I’ve witnessed their stubborn affection for each other; I’m old enough to get their private jokes. If I were younger, perhaps I could trick myself into imagining a cute “Parent Trap” situation, but my middle-aged mind knows reconciliation is not possible, not after almost half a century of two people struggling with a disease no one beats. Certainly, I am less shattered than I would have been as a kid. But I am sadder, too.

I have to say I don’t find late divorce to be inherently sad. The ability in your sixties or seventies to say that you want a new start, a fresh life, if your marriage has become toxic and irreparable, strikes me as a vote of confidence in the future. Staying in a marriage that hurts both parties – out of mere pride or exhaustion – is not a great way to round out your days. And the relationship may even blossom with a little late-life distance. There’s a phrase from a Pet Shop Boys track that has long played in the back of my mind during life’s tough patches and a relationship’s constant challenges. Happiness is an option. Words to live by. Words to die with.