I
told some poker chums over the weekend I'd be talking about "divorce
ceremonies" on the CBS Early Show. A new book "A Healing Divorce" by
Phil and Barbara Penningroth claims a divorce ritual can help end the
acrimony. "Right," said one buddy, "Do you do the marriage vows in
reverse? 'With this ring I promise never to love thee, neither in
sickness nor in health, etc, etc.'"
Life is better than
parody. For I watched in awe as CBS ran a film clip from the former Mr.
and Mrs. Penningroth's divorce ceremony, including a heartbreaking
marital highlights reel and yes, an exchange of non-wedding rings.
'With this ring I release you as my husband" said a grainy Barbara.
On
the CBS set, Barbara spoke first. She was at first "devastated" she
said when her husband wanted a divorce after 25 years of marriage, but
the divorce ceremony was a way of living in "forgiveness." Philip, a
child of divorce himself, got in his two cents worth: It's the "way we
do divorce" in this culture, that causes all the acrimony.
Then
it was my turn. I said, our high rates of divorce are hurting children,
adults and society. Divorce is an inherently difficult and potentially
damaging event. Children whose parents divorce are at higher risk of
school failure, suicide, mental illness, premature death, child abuse,
physical illness, juvenile delinquency, adult crime, poverty, premature
sexuality and substance abuse.
Case in point: A new paper from the Heritage Foundation's Center for Data Analysis (available online at heritage.org)
on the marriage gap facing African-American children confirms that,
while children of unwed moms face the greatest risks, children whose
parents divorce were four times more likely to depend on AFDC than
children whose parents stay married.
How can a few words
mumbled over a candle, earlier vows having proved ineffectual, somehow
massage away the sting of divorce? Sure we have rituals for other
painful life transitions, such as, say, funerals. Here's the stubborn
difference: the death is inevitable, while the death of love is a
choice.
Actually I only had 30 seconds so I didn't really get
all that in, but you get the general idea. There's something brutal at
the very heart of the divorce process that Phil and Barbara, whom I
liked very much and wish all the best, were trying very hard to deny
with their prettied up ritual. A divorce is when one person, in this
case by the sounds of it Phil, says to the woman he's promised to
cleave to for the rest of his life, that he's tired of the deal.
Divorce says "I'm not going to take care of you, I won't be responsible
for you, you aren't part of my family, I'm free to find someone better
to love." Pardon me, Phil and Barbara, but I just don't believe there
is any very nice way to say that.
"What's the name of your
book?" Barbara asked me, off camera. "The Case for Marriage: Why
Married People are Happier, Healthier and Better-Off Financially," I
replied. "I certainly agree with that," she said, it seemed to me a tad
wistfully. She wanted me to know she wasn't there to promote divorce
only to try to help divorcing people make the best of it. I believed
her. "You have enormous generosity" I told her. Her whole face lit up.
I
may be a marriage romantic but I'm a divorce cynic. The realities
behind this particular divorce ceremony seem to me to be something like
this: after some difficult and unsatisfying years, a husband called it
quits. Then he turned to his bride of 25 years ago and said "Make me
feel better about this." So she did.
Go ahead and have a divorce ceremony if you think it will make you feel better. Phil and Barbara's made me want to cry.
