Splitting

When asked the question "are your parents still married?", I give a little chuckle and say "hell no". The reason my answer is so cynical is not because divorced parents are so normal, but because I can't imagine my parents as a married couple. They've been divorced for 23 years of my life, and I can't imagine it any other way.

That's not to say that I don't remember them as a married couple. Out of all the fighting and screaming that must have occurred before their divorce, I only remember one night of hiding under my covers, trying to block out their yelling. Although, it may have been a plethora of nights, and my memory has just condensed them into one single occasion.

Being that I was five years old at the time of their divorce, I only have two single memories of them as a married couple, and they're both happy ones. The first is of them doing an impromptu slow dance in the middle of our kitchen. My mom must have been making dinner, and my dad had probably just gotten home from work. Maybe instead of calling him by his nickname, "Late For Dinner", she had happily greeted him at the door. Maybe instead of being late for dinner, my dad had brought home a bottle of wine, and greeted her warmly when he walked through the door. In any case, they were slow dancing to imaginary music, and I slipped myself between them and stood on my dad's feet, clasping my arms around my mom's legs, so that I danced along with them.

The second occasion stems from my insomnia, which even back then was a problem. After lying in bed for however long, my little mind racing with thoughts, I crept downstairs to find my parents sitting on our comfy, faded couch, watching t.v. It felt very excitingly late at night, although it probably wasn't later than 9 or 10. I snuggled between them, thrilled that I hadn't been reprimanded and sent back to bed. I stayed up with them and watched t.v., a late-night talk show, I believe. We ate cookies, Fig Newtons, if I remember correctly...or perhaps something with carob chips, which my dad was fond of. I must have fallen asleep like that, because I don't remember how that story ends

I do remember how their marriage ended, though. I remember a lot more of the end, than I do of what proceeded it. But that's neither here nor there, because really, I can't imagine my life any other way.