Remembrance Gifts from Ireland                                                 

 The call came: “Dad is dead,” is all she said and I found myself weeping and saying over and over again: “Oh, I’m so sorry, so sorry.” I didn’t know then for whom I was expressing that sorrow, but it was spontaneous and genuine. Five days later, I still felt that sorrow and sadness, but now I could identify that it was for my children, their children, and even for myself.

I am sorry that there was so much rancor between us in the end years of our marriage and after the divorce. I am sorry that my children must revisit the place of brokenness and regret once again, in spite of them having put the pain of the divorce behind them (both are now married with children of their own,) I am sorry that my ex-husband left behind a mess for his children to deal with, but I realize that was his way and it is not uncharacteristic that his life ended with so much drama. And the sadness went on, taking many forms.

We were married for 22 years when we separated and then divorced in 1979. That’s a long time to be married and an even longer time to have gone our separate ways into new lives. I’ve remarried and so did he. Early attempts to blend our multiple children and families at holiday times were a disaster and I gave up on it, recognizing that the karma was all off and more painful than pleasant. (I have always envied people who divorce and manage to create a whole new family constellation from the many adults and children.)

When I received a call from my daughter (his too) to tell me that her father was dead. I was out of town, high in the Colorado mountains, in the midst of a winter snowstorm. Leaving early to fly home was not an option and besides I was far from ready to step into that drama. I stayed on for two more days, receiving lots of loving counseling from wise and caring friends. By the time I got home, the funeral was over and my role was to comfort my adult children and four grandchildren. I did this; even went so far as to hold a birthday breakfast party for our 12 year old grandson the morning after I arrived home.

And then it hit.

This was the man I married at 18; had three children with him; moved from our home in Massachusetts and built a career and a life in Florida with him; went through the torment of our oldest child being stricken with cancer and dying in 1966; and so many more life experiences. Finally, in 1979, after many attempts to bridge the growing gap between us, we divorced. Moving on was harder than I expected, but with the help of friends and a good counselor I claimed a new and different life, one that was more to my liking than the one he and I had together. In 1985, I remarried an entirely different kind of man and have been married to him for these past 21 years.

I did not expect to feel so much when Dan died, so this it came as a surprise to me. I want to know how others have coped with the death of an ex-spouse, what people have felt, how they have acted, how they have been with their children and grandchildren. Please send your experiences and learnings to me at LFSheehy@aol.com

Louise Sheehy lives in Central Florida. She is a steadfast worker for multi-faith dialogue, mutual respect and understanding. She leads a project for Jewish, Christian and Muslim middle school students that embodies all of these practices. She has been a leader in the Spiritual Eldering movement, approaching aging as an exciting experiment rather than something to be dreaded. All of her work now is focused on peace building and learning skills for conflict resolution and bridge building. Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Louise_Sheehy