Ending an Era

My parents have been divorcing for nearly two years.


I've never seen anyone do things my mother's done during these two years.

Or maybe I have.

I remember the drama mom experienced in every relationship she had. Her relationships started well; she quickly became BFFs with someone. During the golden days of the friendship, the new BFF could do no wrong. Inevitably, the BFF would do or say something to offend her. Overnight the BFF morphed into Satan incarnate. She'd cut the former BFF out of her life -- and out of ours. It happened many, many times over the years. To my eternal regret, it even happened with my Grandma A.

The end of the friendship or relationship wasn't the end of the story. Mom couldn't let go of a hurt -- real or imagined. She devoted countless hours devising ways to retaliate against the former BFF. Occasionally nature helped; when she heard that a former BFF had breast cancer she commented "I guess people always get what's coming to them." Nasty.

I think the same behavior has prompted much of her worst behavior during her divorce. Rather than moving forward to all the possibility a new life offers, she seems bitterly trapped in the past.

When she left her marriage, she told me she saw my continued employment at dad's company as a betrayal of her and that I'd chosen my "side" in the divorce. She's called to make bizarre threats against me and my family. She continued to phone and text my boys while under the influence of whatever is her latest addiction. On December 1 last year, mom threw a calculated fit and pretended she was afraid of my husband even though she continues to call him for help during her domestic disputes with the new man in her life.

She is a lost and angry person. Though I'm not a fan of clichés, I think the "misery loves company" cliché suits her. She has done her level best to hurt me. She's tried to do the same to dad.

Her latest antics have resulted in dad auctioning a lifetime's accumulation of toys. One of the things on the auction block is a 1969 Ford Mustang. I remember dad restoring that car when I was a child. I remember watching him shine and polish it. I remember the rare occasions he drove it. He cherished the car for a long time.

I'm sad it's being auctioned. I'm surprised that I'm sad; I don't normally love the things of the world. I think I'm sad because the car holds so many memories and in most of those memories dad's eyes were sparkling and he was grinning. My boys will never see that version of my dad, but I'll keep those memories.

Dad's not sad. He's not much of a thing person either. He sees today's auction as the next step in ending a painful era in his life.  I'm proud of him and his optimism.

For mom? She's lost in a terrifying world of addiction and abuse. I can't imagine she ever feels safe, even though she once told me her new boyfriend is her personal messiah. I pray she finds the light and hope offered by the true Messiah and learns to lets go of her anger and bitterness.