Keeping our roots
My former husband and I have decided that friendship is much better than fighting. And our new spouses agree.
Afew weeks ago, while my husband, Steve, was away on an out-of-state business trip, I heard my front door open. My two cocker spaniels raced to the door, barked briefly, and then quieted when it was someone familiar: my ex-husband. He headed up past our old bedroom to the newer one I share with my husband of 15 years. One flight down at my desk, I finished crafting a get-well e-mail to my ex’s wife, who would have been there that evening, too, had she not felt ill. Eventually, I meandered upstairs to the bedroom.
No, nothing lecherous going on. We’re just two families that have adjusted as well as possible to life after divorce. My ex came over to see our 18-year-old daughter, whose wisdom teeth were excised hours before; she was receiving visitors propped up like a princess in my king-size bed.
Was it awkward having my ex plant his rear on Steve’s side of the bed? Sure. Did I worry that his mind would wander to acts that go on there behind closed doors? Yeah, but so what? We were together such a long time ago that neither of us defines our relationship by the five years we spent as husband and wife; instead, we are our daughter’s parents, and if not exactly friends, at least friendly.
The very nature of divorce implies a lifetime of acrimony, but it doesn’t have to. Instead, moving forward with one’s life and relating respectfully makes things healthier for all.
How did we arrive at this philosophy? I think it was born at the beginning. Our daughter was only 5 months old when he left; maybe juggling dirty diapers and baby bottles distracted us from excess animosity. Later, we attended parent-teacher meetings together and watched her play sports with our portable chairs in the same end zone.
Not that our contact was always pleasant. Early on, between the hours of Goodnight Moon and breakfast mush, I often raised my voice on the phone to embarrassing decibels while slinging four-letter epithets his way. And financial tangles pop up periodically.
However, acting civilly, and compromising, benefited our daughter -- and provided the secondary advantage of making me look more mature. As for him, I suspect guilt over leaving caused conflict avoidance.
Long after I had met Steve, my ex split up with his longtime girlfriend, and, well, I fixed him up with his future wife -- my close friend’s neighbor. Truth is, I was neither being kindhearted nor selecting my kid’s stepmom (OK, probably a little of each); mostly, I was choosing the other woman who would be in my life for a long, long time. And I’m glad I did, because we genuinely like each other.
From the start, our daughter has spent two or more nights a week at her dad’s home one town away. Holiday arrangements are based not on a rigid schedule but on whose extended family is visiting. If both are, we try to split the day. For years, my ex and his wife hosted Thanksgiving a day late, granting me turkey and stuffing -- and my daughter -- on the actual day. At Christmas, she goes to his house -- it’s his birthday. At her bat mitzvah, I thanked the guests from both sides for celebrating as “one family” for a day.
When it came time for our daughter to attend college last year, my ex and I drove her nine hours to D.C.; his wife flew there, and my husband traveled by train. My daughter orchestrated which dad could best set up her computer (my husband), which mom would arrange her room (her stepmom), and who’d schlep things up from the car (all of us). I did, however, muscle my way in for the last goodbye hug. And when we all visited on parents’ weekend, I learned that was dumb -- I needed my daughter to myself. This year I will visit on non-parents’ weekend.
Isn’t there tension? Sure. Steve dislikes my ex calling me by the affectionate nickname “Min” and mistrusts how long we sometimes speak on the phone. But my husband has come to understand. He even laughed when I texted a photo of my ex sitting on his pillow during the post-wisdom-teeth visit.
Don’t get me wrong: Divorce creates enormous pain, loss, and complications. But if you allow it, it expands the definition of family and makes a bad situation a tad more tolerable. Still, boundaries are important. The front door to my house was unlocked that evening; my ex does not have a key.
Mindy Pollack-Fusi is a college application essay coach and creative writing teacher in Bedford. Send comments to coupling@globe.com. Story ideas: Send yours to coupling@globe.com. Please note: We do not respond to ideas we will not pursue. 
