Children of Divorce

There are many of us, the children born in a divorce. Some might call us lucky; we never had to go through the dividing of a once whole family. We wouldn’t have to wonder what we did wrong, what we said, or what we could have done to make it all work. Don’t mind us, we do only have to live through a life where we’ve never had a whole family. Never had a moment of everything being at its proper place. The dream will never be complete.
We have it better because when someone asks for your dad, you don’t know who to refer to. What a benefit we have, knowing all transportation systems between the parents’ houses by heart. How fortunate we are, being born with the features they hate about each other. We are their constant nightmare, reminding them of their former love, their past. They cannot escape us. We are the reminder they never wished for. Do not mind us, the kids who will never know who they are because their personality traits are despised by both sides. We cannot grow as we have no ground to stand on. Where do we come from; who do we belong to? These are questions that haunt us on the midst of the day. We have no place to escape, no one to turn to.
Ask a one of us to define Good and Evil. We will answer vaguely as we know that those who intentionally hurt other people are evil, but we don’t want to think of our parents as evil. There are no right or wrong, yet there are always two sides of a story, hard to separate from the truth. Excuses are vivid, we live among people who want to protect us, but drag us further down the rabbit hole.

Don’t mind us, we do only have to live through a life where we’ve never had a whole family.



Child in a Tree

Laughter in my ear. A smile stuck on my mouth. A few feet away a child is climbing in a tree, smiling. He laughs, with no worries. Not knowing what fate has chosen for him.
The child’s mom us underneath and watches carefully. Happily she looks up and listens. “I can see the whole world from here! Come!”

Her eyes turn up and over my head. My body turns and I look.
The threes, big and green. Children with terrified moms.  Of course, they don’t want anything to happen. But I am not scared. My child has control. I know it! Thousands of times she has climbed in this tree. It’s something special about it. Or, she thinks so. And as long she likes it, it’s hers. Always this one. With the first flowers of the spring. This one, with arms so protecting and careful. I trust this tree, because I know it won’t hurt her. In any way.




                      Running feet


Sorrow, pain and sadness rule our hearts.  A few seconds before and I could have saved her! Only a few…
I turn her body so I can see her face. The glass eyes get stuck on my mind and I curse it. Blame me, do it and be done! Yes, I should have watched over her better, but what else can I do? Sorrow is too painful and forgetting is cruel!
But I know something she would love; a funeral with everybody. With everyone she knew, that would be great. With red roses, her favorite teddy buried with her, together. She always wanted her teddy around her. Everywhere she went, he was with her. Even into death he followed her.

He was with her all her life, whole 9 short years.