Today was not like a normal Friday. It was a sunny May afternoon and the birds were chirping loudly as I walked home from the bus stop with my best friend Abby. The sun was shining down on our faces and there were big, pillow-like clouds all over the sky. Everything was green and flowers had bloomed in every place imaginable. As we continued down the road towards our homes, we discussed our school days and our plans for the sleepover we were going to have together that night. We got to Abby’s house and I was ready to go inside with her. All of a sudden my mom was out on our drive way yelling to me. “Emily! You have to come home now. You can play with Abby later.” Honestly, I was really surprised. My mom never asked me to come home right away. As Abby gave me a look of disappointment, I told her I would come right back and then I turned toward home.

Running to my house where my mother was waiting for me, I went through a list of possible things that I could have done to make her call me home. Obviously I was in trouble because she sounded somewhat mad when she yelled to me. I was praying that whatever I had done wrong would not affect the important plans I had with my best friend. I reached the driveway and my mom hurried me inside, explaining that I had not done anything wrong. Well, that was a sigh of relief. Like any other seven year old kid, I figured now was the best time to ask my mom if I could have a sleep over. “Honey, we will talk about it later. Right now let’s just go inside. We have some things we need to talk about.” We entered the house. She followed me into the living room where I found my dad and brother sitting in the middle of the floor. I knew something bad was about to happen. My dad was never home before five o‘clock and it was only about four now. My four year old brother looked content but then again he had a bowl of crackers by him which always put him in a good mood.

We sat down with brother and my dad forming a circle. There was this moment of complete silence and it was horrifying. The air felt like death, as if someone had passed on. And for a second, that is what I thought I was going to be told; that someone close to me had died. Then I saw my dad give this strange look to my mother, signaling to her somewhat. She broke the quietness of the room. “Kids. There is something your father and I have to explain to you. But first just know that we love you a lot and no matter what that will not change. Ok?” I nodded in a worried anticipated way, eager to her what else she was going to say. “Um. Well, we are….going to get a divorce.”

My dad was looking at the ground and my mom continued to say something else which I completely ignored. My stomach had dropped. I felt short of breath and my head was spinning. My brother started sobbing even though he did not really understand what was happening. He knew though, that it was not a good thing. He began screaming, in somewhat of a comical way, “I’m going to have to change my last name! I’m going to have to change it!” I remember being sad and scared. I did not fully comprehend what was to come because of this and it truly worried me. I then saw my mom’s eyes tearing up as she tried to comfort my little brother. And that is when I began to cry. I knew at that moment that all of this was real and that my life would be changed forever. I would never have that “prefect, middle-class family” like the people on TV. I would never be able to draw a normal picture of my family in school. I would never be able to run down stairs and see my mom and dad at the dinner table together when it was time to eat. “Is this ok with you guys?” my dad asked Eric and me. “No, it is not ok.” I thought. But even though I was young, I knew that no matter what I said in response to his question that they would still be splitting up. The circle we were sitting in was broken, symbolically.

I was angry and resentful for a couple of years. I did not like to talk about it and I even suppressed many of my feelings. I went through a stage of denial where I made myself believe that the divorce was a phase and hoped they would eventually back together. Finally, I got over it. It still hurt, but with each year after it got more bearable. Over time I began to realize that even though my parents were not still together, I still had a family. I still had people who loved me. My mom was right when she had told us that, “no matter what happens, we still love you.”