The first time I experienced separation in my family was when my paternal grandfather left my grandmother. Although the news was traumatizing at the time, I want to share this story with you because it has concluded with a glimmer of hope.

Growing up, my twin brother and I had a decent relationship with “Pappap”: we would watch Steelers games with him, he would take us hunting and fishing, we would stay up late to catch fireflies, and look at the stars through the telescope. For our thirteenth birthday, he took us to the NASCAR race in the Poconos, where we got to go into the pits before the race and see the cars up close. Every Sunday we would go to Mass and visit both sets of grandparents.

Then one evening in September 2005, when I was a junior in high school, my dad sat the family down in the living room and told us that Pappap was leaving Grandma and moving in with another woman. I remember being so shocked that I couldn’t say a single word. I remember thinking, What? How could he walk out on us like this? How could he leave Grandma, the sweetest woman in the world? Apparently, he had been unfaithful for many years; his decision to leave was a long time coming.

Around 2011, my own parents divorced, which set in motion my interest in marriage and family matters. In 2014 I began to explore my genealogy and family history, and I decided to reach out to Pappap and meet up with him for lunch. Part of my intention was to ask him about the family members whom I never knew, such as his parents. My underlying motive, though, was to have him remember where he came from, who his people were, who he was. I wanted to make him feel a “tug.”

Pappap and I got together that summer and he told me some amazing stories! The two most remarkable ones were about how the “e” was added to the end of our last name (Wolfe) and a car chase that his father led when he was rushing his wife to the hospital. While I loved hearing these stories and enjoyed our lunch together, my real mission failed: he did not come back after that.

We saw Pappap at a few funerals through the years, the most notable of which was Grandma’s death in 2019. He brought his lover with him, which made things awkward and uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but think that Grandma’s health would have been much better if Pappap had remained devoted to her. 

In the fall of 2021, we received news that Pappap had contracted Covid, developed pneumonia, and been placed on a ventilator in the hospital. He died in late November, and I made my travel plans to go up for the funeral. We all gathered at the viewing to share stories and pay our final respects, though there was a conspicuous absence: the woman with whom he had been living all this time was not there. I visited with my cousins, stopped by the old house, which is still in the family, and got some sleep.

The next morning, my father and I drove to the funeral home. He told me that at the viewing, he was talking to his sisters who had been able to visit their father in his final days. Pappap’s lover was apparently not very present there either, so my aunts had a lot of time to talk with him alone. Evidently, at some point in their final conversations, my grandfather said to them straight up, 

I never should have left your mother.

When I heard about this, I felt a tremendous sense of relief – not so much for me but for him. I realized in that moment that I had been hoping – for over sixteen years – for some small shred of remorse from Pappap for the good of his immortal soul. I now dare to hope that his deathbed confession was enough to spare him the tortures of hell and grant him the mercy of purgatory. 

We went up to the Church for the funeral mass, at which I delivered the first reading from the Book of Wisdom: “Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.” We went to the reception, and again I could not help but notice that his lover was nowhere to be found. I didn’t stay in town long enough to see the burial, but I was informed that Pappap was buried next to Grandma, where he belonged.

I share this tale because I know many of us long to hear apologies from one or both of our parents for their own roles in the divorce. I just encourage you to pray for apologies and a sense of remorse not for your own sake but for theirs. If we forgive them in our hearts, we can find healing without their apologies. But apologies on their parts will do them a great deal of good when they stand before God at the end of all things. Better for them to be chastised a little (or a lot, as the case may be) and eventually make it into the kingdom of heaven, than to be lost forever.

Let this also serve as a reminder to us all to take responsibility for our own failings. We are wounded and fallen, just as our parents (and grandparents) are wounded and fallen, and we all stand in need of God’s great and abundant mercy.

Intercessory Prayer

Saints Joachim and Anne, patron of grandparents, pray for us and for our grandparents.

About the Author:

Alex Wolfe grew up in western Pennsylvania and studied Theology at DeSales University. Through the experience of seeing his parents get divorced while he was in college, Alex decided to study at the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and the Family in Washington, D.C. He completed the Master of Theological Studies degree and coursework for the Ph.D. 

Alex is now employed by the Office of Marriage, Family, and Respect Life at the Diocese of Arlington, where he focuses on marriage preparation and healing for children of divorce. He serves as the Content and Support Group Advisor for Life-Giving Wounds and is a member of the Life-Giving Wounds traveling team.

Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals

1. What do you feel, or what thoughts go through your head, when you hear of Pappap’s deathbed confession: “I never should have left your mother?”

2. Were your grandparents divorced?

3. Have you in the past, or are you now, praying for an apology from one or both of your parents?