In the end.

They divorced when I was seven-ish.  I thought it was the end of the world.  And to me, it really was.  We were ‘broken,’  I was broken.  And then slowly but surely we had to put our family back together piece by piece.  Albeit, apart pieces, because of course, there was a Mom’s, and Dad’s.  Separate toothbrushes, two beds, different vacations, even different bedtimes, and Dad’s was a little more lenient on the latter.  But, things would never go back to the way they were, this was the new normal.  And as I grew up, and became accustomed to my new normal, something funny happened.  The arguments of past years became more few and far between and my parents began speaking words to each other, and not yelling them.  There were casual hellos, and friendly conversations, family dinner nights on Sundays, holidays, and now vacations.

BULLSHIT! Amanda insisted, while studying each others’ poker face.  She had a bad habit of always calling Mom out, which unfortunately lead to her acquiring a huge stack of playing cards.  And Dad’s was definitely the hardest to decipher; truth or lie?  And as I sat around that coffee table, in our beach house in Florida, I didn’t want it to end because it meant much more to me then just that game of cards.  It was my family together.  My whole, broken and put back together, still divorced, amazing family, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  Because you see, no matter how confusing and broken you may feel, in the end, it always works out.