Everyone was always happy, and smiling, we would have such a good time. Family dinners were at least twice a week with my brothers busy schedules, with sports, and boy scouts. As far as I remember there was never any arguing, or any issues, until I grew older.
My dad started coming home later from work and he wouldn’t usually talk, and once my sister were in our bright pink room, with the fairy night light, almost asleep, we could hear the loud voices down the narrow hallway. It was loud enough that we could hear the words coming out of our parents mouth angrily, but they obviously didn’t want us to hear them. I had other friends with divorced parents, but I didn’t want my parents to end up like that. Soon dad wasn’t sleeping upstairs with mom, he was in the extra room in the basement. Family dinners went from two nights a week, down to one, and then mom and dad didn’t talk as much, no more trips to the zoo.
One Tuesday after cheer practice around April-May of my second grade year, dad asked for everyone to go to the living room. Meg and I thought nothing of it, but we did notice he looked pretty serious. Dad said “Your brothers were growing up and it is time for them to move out” and I felt the tears starting to form, I was so close to my brothers and I was younger so it had more of an impact on me since I was closer to them. I was already sad and crying, I looked to my left and I could tell my mom was sad, we sat for a few minutes and it was like we were waiting for something. Dad spoke after a few minutes “I’m also moving out.” I tried to set and example and be strong for Megan, Mom told me it was okay to cry, but I was never a fan of crying in front of people no matter who it was, friends or family. That night mom was in her room sleeping before us which was different she always stayed up until we were asleep.
I was always known as the happy, bubbly girl who wasn’t sad, and that’s how I want people to see me, but really i was always mad or depressed. It was mostly towards my parents because I hated that they got divorced, and I didn’t feel like a normal person. My relationship with my brothers was strong but my brother josh was almost like a second dad, sometimes he’d take us to practice, or out to dinner. I realized over the summer that it didn’t matter how angry I was because my parents weren’t going to get back together.
It was hard to forgive them, but it was harder to forgive my dad because he was the one who wanted the divorce. My mom always tried to keep them together and for Megan and I to be older when it happened, but my dad wanted it to be over. Now that they have been divorced for a few years I’ve gotten used to it, although it isn’t how I wanted to grow up. So I still visit my dad every other weekend, although I wouldn’t say there is a resolution to this story because sometimes my parents do get into little arguments over silly things, and sometimes I disagree with my father, and my mother, but I know they both care about my sister and I and they want what's best for us.