Forever

I come from a long line of mistakes. Soon, I will be one myself.

When I was little, my parents marriage was the most beautiful thing in the world. I loved to look at pictures of my mom in her wedding dress. I dreamed of wearing wedding rings like hers one day. Once, she had to take her rings off for the first time, and we had a vow renewal ceremony in our dining room. To this day, it is one of my favorite memories. We used to dance around the living room and sing the BeeGees and Billy Joel at the top of our lungs. We didn't have a lot of money, but we did have a lot of love. Life was great.

Or so I thought.

As I got older, I realized that my parents had problems. They even separated for about nine months when I was in high school. But no matter what, they always got back together. Even through their struggles, they fought for each other, or at least didn't give up on each other.

As an adult of married parents, there has always been something special about being able to say things like "my parents' house". There is a pride that comes with knowing that the people who created you are sticking to the promises they made to each other. There is self-esteem that comes from knowing that you were meant to be. You were not the product of a mistake.

After 40 years of marriage, my parents are in the process of getting divorced. Divorced. The word doesn't even seem possible for them. But it's true.

Divorced.

My heart is broken. My self-esteem is broken. My family is broken.

At 36 years old, I am dealing with this about as well as a 12-year-old. Because, when it comes to my parents, I will always be that 12-year-old who needs them. Who needs them together.

Even worse now though, I have my own three children. Three children who I now have to find a way to tell that their grandparents didn't love each other enough to stay together. How do you even do that?

Growing up, I knew that most of my grandparents and great-grandparents were divorced. The difference is that I never knew them together. From day one, holidays were split. My father's father had passed away, so most holidays were spent with his mother, because she was the one who lived in town. I never had pictures of me with both of my mom's parents together. Kyran and Karyssa do, but my little Gemma never will.

There is a hopeless feeling knowing that my life will never be the same. Will I have "step parents" one day? Will we spend holiday mornings with one set and afternoons with another? Will I ever be able to host a holiday or birthday party and hope that I can have my whole family together? Will we ever have a picture of the six of us again? Is my family even still a family?

Divorce hurts. It hurts many more people than just the two who sign the papers.

It leaves a legacy.

It destroys families.

My dear, sweet Kyran, Karyssa, and Gemma, my promise to you is to never destroy our family. To never make you question your entire existence. To never make you doubt that marriage can last forever. Your daddy and I love each other, and will always fight for our marriage. When we got married, we promised each other that we would either be happy together forever, or miserable together forever, but that we would always strive for the happiness.

Before you were conceived, we made that promise again. This time not for us, but for you. We brought you into this world, and that is a life-long commitment for us. We know that family lasts long past when you are "out of the house". We will be together for God, for us, for you, for your children and for their children. We will do our best to show what selflessness looks like in marriage.

Yes, we will fight. We will disagree. We will not always like each other. But we will always love each other.

Or die trying.