I went to my parents’ house over the weekend to get a haircut, and to visit my mom. My dad is away helping some friends move into their new house, and I wanted to keep my mom company. I arrived, dropped off my dog to play with my parents’ two dogs, and grabbed a quick lunch with my mom. I left for my haircut in good spirits, excited to finally tame my “wild woman of Borneo” hair.

Let me begin by saying that my hair looks great. Some nice long layers frame my face and my hair falls nicely below my shoulders. I was psyched and eagerly returned home to mom to flaunt my new ‘do. I walked in the door, pushed the doggies back and greeted my mom. “Your hair looks great!” She complimented. “I need to talk to you about something.” My heart sank.

“Oh no,” was my reply because whenever my mom segues with “I need to talk to you…” it is bad news. She knew that I was bracing for impact, so she immediately reassured me. “It’s not about you and [your wife], and it’s not my cancer.” My mom is a breast cancer survivor, battling back from an aggressive Stage III C diagnosis, chemotherapy, and radiation. I was relieved, but still concerned. What could it be if not my gayness or mom’s cancer?

“I am divorcing your father.” She filled the awkward silence before I could process any further thoughts. “Okay,” I said with a dull tone. I can’t say I was in shock, but I knew at that moment that life the way I’ve known it was forever changed. “Is this a final decision, or is there a chance you can work this out?” I asked, what I thought was a fair question. My mom was saying something else, so I’m not even sure if she heard the question. Among her ramblings, I deciphered that she’s been thinking about this for fifteen years, and it was not a decision made lightly. She answered my question without even really hearing it.

“Does dad know?” I thought it was a rhetorical question, but the answer surprised me. “No, I am going to a divorce attorney on Monday, your dad gets back on Wednesday; I’m going to tell him when he gets back. I don’t want to ruin his trip.” How thoughtful. “What do you need me to do?” I asked. “I had to prepare a chronology for the lawyer, which lays out why I want this. [IPJ], this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” She started getting teary, and told me that fifteen years ago when she first contemplated divorce she went to see her attorney but couldn’t bring herself to prepare the chronology. Her lawyer advised her that her inability to write it all out meant she didn’t really want the divorce.

Well, she’s ready for it now. My dad has totally ruined their finances and isn’t being the most compassionate partner in the process. My mom told him that she contemplated something like this fifteen years ago, and he said, “go ahead, I want your alimony.” What a hateful thing to say! It is like I don’t even know these people. I know that it is not the end of the world, but my heart feels heavy that my parents aren’t going to be a unit anymore… from what I read, though, I don’t think they ever were one. Perhaps now they can both be happy; that is the important part.