There are two kinds of death. Physical death…and divorce.
Physical death is something we hear about every day. It has touched each and every one of our lives at one time or another. Some deaths cause immeasurable grief. Some deaths elicit applause. Some deaths simply require the obligatory show of respect. Some deaths it seems, are treated as though they are meaningless. Some deaths are so horrendous that we dare not allow ourselves to think about them.
Can the dead talk?
If a slight breeze suddenly brushes by you, could it be the spirit of a loved one? If a lone firefly, for no apparent reason comes up to you unexpectedly, could it be a loved one saying hello? If a butterfly suddenly appears in the middle of the ocean, could it be a sign? If a hummingbird circles your head, could it mean that a loved one is near?
I wonder if the dead can hear me when I let out a string of curse words, that if lined up end to end could stretch a thousand miles. I wonder if the dead can hear me cry and if so, do they mourn with me.
I look for signs every day but I never see them. The dead don’t talk to me.
Divorce is death. It’s the death of a marriage. It’s the death of a friendship. It’s the death of a relationship. It’s the death of a way of life.
There is no funeral. There is no wake. There is no service. There is no plot of land with a marker bearing both names.
There is only a true copy of a final decree, cancelled checks written to an attorney and a settlement record on file at the courthouse.
All the things that were joined to form an entity, suddenly become detached. Things have to be duplicated and split to insure equality. Names have to be changed. Personal information that was once shared, is now kept secret and separate. Tender feelings that once flourished now become wilted and lifeless. Family gatherings are suddenly incomplete because someone is missing.
The difference between physical death and divorce is simple. When physical death happens, the person is gone. When divorce happens, the person is still there.