I like to say that my parents' divorce was one of the best things to happen in my life. That's super pessimistic, I know, and sad to say, however, given the situation and what came of it, I'm very thankful it happened. I've never been bothered by my parents divorce until the last couple of weeks when I've mentioned it to people and then a conversation with a close friend yesterday really has me thinking about divorce today.
     My dad is a paramedic. When I was growing up, he worked at the fire station in my hometown and I think I had a pretty typical life. We lived across the street from my elementary school. My mom was a preschool teacher so she was always home after school. My dad worked 24 hours then had 48 off so he was home for us to walk home for lunch most days of the week. My parents taught me to read, love stories, swim, love sports, how to be kind to others, how to water ski, build sand castles, catch fireflies, how to speak with respect. They signed me up for t-ball, dance, smart kid camp, soccer and went to all of my events.
      Then my dad's job changed. He left the fire station and started working at a cement plant. He hated it, I assume. He was always crabby when he came home and my parents fought constantly. Maybe they didn't. Either way, it felt like it to me. I probably have my dad's temper. Maybe not so much anymore, but I definitely did when I was twelve and thought I knew the world. I was snotty and awful to both of my parents. Looking back I feel like I took my dad's side more often than my mom's but I had been a daddy's girl and didn't know all of what was happening.
     When I was in eighth grade, my dad took a new job working as a paramedic for a transport company in a town 2 hours from our home. He worked in Grand Island three days a week then came home to Norfolk for four. I thought that this would ease the tension in our house. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I thought if my dad were away, then he wouldn't want to taint the times he was home with fighting. I was wrong. I started to cherish the time when my dad was away. Maybe I remember it wrong. Maybe our family didn't fight that much? I don't know.
      I do know that I walked in on my dad while he was chatting on a Single's website. It was the summer before I turned fifteen. I had to tell my mom what happened. I later, without shame, used this incident in a personal essay that won me a full ride scholarship to any college in the state of Nebraska I wanted to attend. I used the pain of having to tell my mom my dad was cheating on her to get to go to school for free. I'm I sorry? Now? No. Then? Maybe.
     I held my mom's hand while I told her. I don't remember if I cried. She cried. I think for me, not for what I told her, but because I had to tell her. She talked to my dad. He lied to my face and told me he would never cheat. A few weeks later a woman from Grand Island call my mom and said she'd been seeing my dad. Maybe my mom already suspected things when I told her. Maybe she already knew.
      My mom filed for divorce and told me first. She called me into her room and told me we'd be OK. Mom, my brother Tanner and I would get the house. We'd be all right. She cried. I called my crazy bipolar then boyfriend to take me somewhere else.
     The next day was Monday and my dad told my little brother about the divorce five minutes before he was supposed to leave for school. Tanner was in fifth grade. I tried to make it right. I tried to put things together for my brother, but I hated my dad at that moment. Why did he do this to us? Why did he do this to Tanner minutes before school started for the day.
     My friends who had divorced parents said having divorced parents was so cool because you had two of everything. I felt like my dad disappeared on us. He went from being my hero to someone I saw once a month to go out to eat. He missed my entire high school career and he lived in the same town as me. I had one of everything minus one dad.
     I had a job and kept working. I paid for all my clothes and when I got a car, gas, and anything I wanted to do as far as hanging with friends. I didn't think we were poor, but we qualified for reduced school lunch. My dad was supposed to take us every other weekend. He didn't. Before considering how crappy that was of him to not spend time with us, I was mad that those were days he should've been paying to take care of us that my mom shouldn't have had to, but of course she did because she is our parent. I don't think Tanner or I would've gone to stay with my dad, but I'll never know. Why didn't he want us? It was, like, four days a month.
     Soon after the divorce, my closest girlfriends started drinking. I made new ones. The first months after my parents' divorce I was awful. Honestly horrid. I was worst version I can ever imagine of myself. After talking with my friend today, I wonder if it was because I was trying to get my dad to notice me. I was dating a nutcase. My mom was worried this kid was going to beat the crap out of me. Why didn't my dad come out like all the embarrassing dads on TV and scare this dbag away? Why didn't my dad want to protect me? Where the heck was he even? Today I wish I'd had the stereotypical dad who threatened boys with a shotgun on the porch. My dad didn't say boo to this idiot.
     I shot hoops with my brother. I beat up one of his friends for being mean to him. I eventually found the self confidence to ditch the loser boyfriend--the beginnings of daddy issues maybe made that linger longer than it would have if I'd been more stable. He had cheated on me. I kept telling myself that if my mom was brave enough to get away from that, then so could I. I thought I loved him. It was hard. I started to hang out with boys who I thought were good role models for my brother. I went from being a stubborn, self-absorbed fifteen year old to a thirty-five year old woman in a matter of months. My mom became my best friend and I was back to the point where most girls don't get to until their mid-twenties when family is everything, just like when you are a little girl. When I turned 19 I got secondary legal custody of my brother. Tanner is the person I'm most proud of in all the world.
     When I moved to college, my dad didn't come help. He never saw my first dorm room. When I turned 19, he legally didn't have to continue to pay for things for me that had been drawn up in my parents' divorce. He tried to kick me off of his insurance. I asked why he thought he could check out of being a parent just because I turned 19. If he were still living with my mom, they'd keep me on their insurance no questions asked. I think this changed something in him. This was the year my brother started high school and my dad never missed one of Tanner's games. My dad started signing me up for running events with him and that became our thing. It didn't fix what he'd missed, but at least we had something.
     My dad's and my relationship may only center around sports now, but I'm glad we have something. I've forgiven him and I love him. I'm thankful every day for my dad. If I'm being completely honest, I have to say that I don't want him to get re-married unless it's after my mom does. While I was in high school and while Tanner was in high school, kids in our classes would tell us our dad was dating their mom. We've never met any of these women, nor has he spoken of them to us. I used to wonder who is the one who isn't important enough to meet the other? Is it us or is it her? Just today I'm realizing maybe it's because he is ashamed. Ashamed of what he did to us and afraid to confront the problem.
     I'm also ashamed. I'm ashamed I've had a hard time forgiving my father. I'm ashamed a small piece of me feels like he should ask for my forgiveness. I'm ashamed that my dad has never once questioned a decision I have made and I feel like it's because he's afraid that if he questions me, I'll shut him out completely. I don't want my dad to be afraid of me.
     Divorce possibly caused me to be in an unhealthy, rebellious relationship for too long, but also caused me to grow up much faster and become a much better person than I would have. My mom taught me to be the best person I can be every day. When adults I work with tell me that I remind them of their daughters and that they hope their daughters grow up to be like me, I hope I make my mom proud. I don't know what I think about my parents' divorce now. Given the circumstance, I wouldn't have it another way, but am I happy about it? I don't know. All this writing and rambling and really, what's done is done, it's in the past, right?