Divorcing Max's Family: Saying Good Bye to My Mother- and Father-in-Law

I've shared tales of my divorce and the repercussions for me, Max, my friends, and my parents. It occurred to me this week that I haven't shared anything about one of the huge losses of my divorce: my in-laws.

...but sometimes it's the only way.

Let's go back to the day I said good bye to them.

I was going to be in New England visiting some friends. I decided to email my mother-in-law to see if I could stop by to visit. We had been in touch that fall as my marriage unraveled, but I was trying to be very careful about not saying too much to them. Max had gone to see them a few weeks earlier and told them the truth about our marriage, so she knew things were bad between Max and me and probably only going to get worse. Still, I knew she was clinging to a prayer that we might reconcile. So, she replied to my email saying that of course I could come visit, but that she just hoped it wasn’t for me to say good bye. In fact, that was exactly what I was preparing to do.

On October 22, 2012, within a few days of when I filed for divorce and two days before my third wedding anniversary, I drove through Max’s hometown. My stomach twisted itself in knots. As I passed through the familiar neighborhoods, I thought about the first time Max brought me to his parents’ house and how excited I was to get to see the house where he took his first steps. I remembered the Thanksgiving when my parents came to Max’s house and how thrilled I was to have Max, me, my parents, and Max’s at the same holiday table. As I pulled into the driveway, I recalled Max’s sister’s wedding day and taking pictures in the backyard. My heart filled with sadness and something resembling dread as I walked up to the side entrance. The entrance family uses. I knocked on the door, something I’m not sure if I’d ever done before.

Max’s dad answered the door and hugged me, as usual. He started with the small talk, asking me about the traffic. Then Max’s mom walked into the kitchen. She just looked at me and burst into tears. We stood there hugging, while trying to wordlessly comfort each other.

We finally sat down at the kitchen table, as we had many, many times over the years. I would chat for hours with Max’s dad over coffee or his mom over a slice of homemade cake. I had engaging conversations with them ranging from current events to baking tips, and I truly thought of them as my second parents. Now, I looked at them and saw something I’d never seen before: pain.

As my father-in-law continued his futile attempt at small talk, we eventually got into the inevitable: why I was there. My mother-in-law asked, “Is it over?”

Tears misted my eyes as I choked out an answer. “I wish it weren’t. But yes, there’s nothing more we can do to save our relationship. I've filed for divorce.”

The clock hanging on the wall over my head ticked loudly. No one knew what to say. I mean, what the heck do you say after admitting that you can no longer be married to the man that these wonderful people raised? And what do they say to the woman who has no choice but to leave?

They broke the silence, saying how very sad they were, but they understood. After some brief chatter about the logistics of filing, selling the condo, how long until the divorce would be final, and if I would change my name back, it was time for me to leave. There was just nothing more to say.

We stood up, and they both wrapped their arms around me as the tears started again. My father-in-law stepped back, looked me in the eyes and said, “You’ll always be our daughter. Always.”

“Thank you,” I replied weakly, afraid of completely losing it. “And thank you for not hating me.”

I stumbled out the side door to my car. As I drove away, I realized that I had no idea if or when I would see Max’s parents again. They were my family for years, and now everything was changing. These loving people were in  fact losing a daughter and gaining an unwanted perspective on their son: that he had failed me as  a husband. I don’t know who I was sadder for: Max’s parents or myself.

That night, I received an email from my mother-in-law:

Hello,

I wanted to thank you for having the courage to face John and I today to give us the news of the ending of your marriage to our son.  I know this must have been very difficult for you to have to share this news with us instead of Max doing it.  I am so sorry that he has failed you as a husband and it has led to this drastic action being taken.  I wish I could make things right for the both of you.

Max was definitely angry about you stopping here today.  Both John and I are glad you did.  We are sorry that you no longer will be a part of our family.  We will always think of you as our "Daughter" no matter what the circumstances.

Please keep in touch and let us know how you are doing.  And when the time comes to move, let us know your new address.  Thank you for giving our son many years of your life and three years in marriage.  I wish things could have ended differently.  Let us know what is going on with him if we can do anything.

Love,

Sara

Though I haven't seen them in nine months now, I am still in loose touch with my in-laws and I continue to feel blessed that they were part of my life. They knew how much I loved Max and that I did everything I could to save us. But even they, as Max’s parents, understood that sometimes you have no choice but to leave.

What is your relationship like with your ex’s family? Do you speak to them anymore? Is there resentment?

See also: How To Live Through Your Child's Divorce.