The “D” Word

     Fifteen years ago I survived a divorce. It was something that had to happen, and for two years my soul was dragged slowly across the jagged floor of hell. It felt like being pushed blindfolded off a high dive and not knowing whether there was water in the pool. Each morning I had to hold a staff meeting with my emotions to figure out how to make it through the day. Eventually we reached a truce-if they promised to let me act like a normal human being while I worked from nine to five, they could be as crazy as they wanted to with me the rest of the time.
     
      Lonely does not begin to describe it. It was a time when I was acutely aware that I was no longer the most important person in the world to anyone else. I eventually crawled back into the human race, but not without the help of some wonderful and very patient friends. And although that black hole of my life closed a long time ago and I now consider myself a poster girl for survival and joy, I’ve kept a piece of that time with me to remember the empathy and compassion that was offered to me, and how people in that dark place need it so desperately. 
     
      Statistically, about half of all marriages end in divorce, and there are no statistics on how many more unmarried, long-term relationships end. That tells me that a whole lot of people are feeling pretty lost at some point in their lives. There is a fresh, special kind of grief for those in the throes of a crumbling marriage or divorce, or any broken (or breaking) relationship-a pain that the passage of life will diminish in time, but impossible to believe for those who are in the center of it.
     
      If divorce is not part of your life history, count your blessings. If it is, you know exactly what I’m talking about. In either case, I invite you to be a friend to someone who needs it. It’s not always easy to spend time with someone whose life has shattered, but it won’t last forever, I promise. Have her over for dinner, or watch the kids for an afternoon, or take him to a football game. Be patient as he recounts the sequence of events that led up to what he’s trying to navigate through now. Pour her another cup of coffee as she re-hashes the coulda/woulda/shoulda’s to you for the 11th time.
     
      Let the healing begin.
     
      Get out and give back.