Monday, November 14, 2011

The rules of war


“After a long, hopeless war, people will settle for peace, at almost any price.” ~Salman Rushdie

Everyone I ever knew that had gone through a divorce had his or her own version of a horror story. It is absolutely evident divorce brings out the worst in people. Every skeleton hidden in the closet is dragged out and publicly displayed for review and commentary. And, the person you were supposed to trust the most in the world seemingly becomes your enemy.

After having lived through my parents’ divorce at a young age, I vowed to not allow history to repeat itself. I wanted to be the one that left quietly in the night. Took no more than my fair share. Never spoke a cross word about my husband in public. And, end up friends. Maybe not buddies. But definitely tolerable.

That philosophy was all fine and good, until the first shot was fired. The shot heard ‘round the world. Or in my case, around the town. Our church. Our social circle.

I’m convinced every divorce has that day. The day of the first shot. After that, the rules change. Even in the beginning, it seemed more like petty drama of a couple breaking up than actual life threatening maneuvering. I guess I paid little attention to the devastating effects of those first few firings from the enemy, onto my peaceful battlefield.

Maybe the reason I failed to understand the rules of this kind of war was because simply, I thought there were rules to war. Even in modern combat, there are lines that just aren’t crossed. And tactics bordering on terrorism that stay out of the combat zone. Especially when children are the hostages.

I decided no matter how dirty my once lover, turned enemy was playing – there was a certain standard I wouldn’t get below. My friends and family sang in my ear about the high road. They all told me how good it would feel in the end to not play those games.

In essence, I set my own rules for war. My rules stated no matter how bad it became or how angry I was with him, I wouldn’t do any one of these three things:

·      I will not intentionally hurt myself, or my children.
·      I will not intentionally hurt him. 
·      I will not destroy our personal property or possessions as an act of revenge.

Although paved with good intentions, the high road is very lonely. I spent many nights alone with my phone off, so I didn’t have to see or hear the latest comments or gossip. I left the community where I spent decades, quietly. I did not shout from the rooftops all the list of done-me-wrongs, nor did I try to correct the mistruths floating about me at the post office or coffee shop.

My children and I walked away with barely any of our personal belongings, so as not to create any unnecessary battles of insignificant (or significant) household items. We begged and borrowed from family and friends to fill our rental home.

I followed all the rules.

Most days, I was the only one.

Looking back on the process – I can say that truth and honor were victorious. Although, the scars from my war can never be measured. Or forgotten. And some of them will take a lot of concentration and strength, to be forgiven.  

Would I have fought a little dirtier in the war, should I know now what I didn’t know then?

No.

Daisies bend, not break.

And I will not break my own rules. Not even for him.

“If we lose love and self-respect for each other, this is how we finally die.” 
~Maya Angelou

Dance with me,
~Daisy

No comments:

Post a Comment