I’m sitting at Starbuck’s, trying desperately to shut out the sounds around me. I’ve left my home this morning — 15 children there, mine and those of visiting guests. I thought it would be quieter here. Instead, there is a trio sitting nearby, a man and two women. They are discussing their divorces, the marriages that preceded them and the divorces of their own parents, too. For a moment, I stop trying to write, stop trying to think. And I listen. Listen to the pain — the pain of abandonment in childhood, the pain of abandonment in middle age. And now they are talking about their children, split between two households, about broken dreams and dashed hopes....Read the rest at the Catholic Herald, please.
*fixed the link:-)