Personal Narrative on Divorce

It was the last Saturday in December of 1997. My brother, sister, and I were chasing after each other throughout the house. As we were running, our parents told us to come and sit down in the living room. They had to tell us something. So, we all went down stairs wondering what was going on. Once we all got down stairs, the three of us got onto the couch. Then, my mom said, “ Well…”

“Your mother and I…” interrupted my father.

“Are getting a divorce, ” said my mother, completing his sentence.

I was five at the time, so I had no idea what a divorce was. I then asked a ton of questions.

“What’s a remorse?” I asked

“Divorce,” corrected my older sister, Jennifer, “D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Not remorse, or whatever you said!”

My mother then answered my question saying, “A divorce is when…” I could see her eyes watering, “two married people don’t want...to be married anymore.”

“Will we still live here?” I asked

“No,” answered my mother.

“Will we ever see Daddy again?” asked Jennifer.

“ Well of course, ” answered my father, “It’ll just be like I’m out of town for a very long time. Y’all will see me every other weekend.”

My older brother, Jonathan, was very quiet at the time. I think he was quiet because he was the only one of the three of us who truly knew what was going on.

With me being at the tender age of five, I was very confused of what was going on. I thought that Jonathan, Jennifer, and I would live in a house by our selves and that both my parents would visit us from their separate houses every now and then.

Most people would think that I’m depressed, but I like to think of my parents’ divorce as something positive that has happened in my life.