Ripples and Earthquakes

Across the street from my childhood home was a park where my brother and I often played. The park had a lake and I remember learning how to skip stones there. It felt like a childhood rite of passage to finally succeed in skipping a stone across the blue waters. The joy and excitement of being able to make a rock temporarily defy gravity came with the determination to skip one even further next time. In the process of many failed attempts, I learned that only certain rocks are good for skipping—smooth stones, the smaller and lighter ones. Large and jagged rocks always landed with a grand ker-plop and caused the unleashing of dozens of ripples chasing each other as far as the eye could see.

This image comes back to mind as I think about the impact of divorce. If a child’s life is like “still waters,” divorce is like a crashing rock that upsets the water. Much of the focus in the early stages of my parents’ divorce was on all the “ripple-effects,” the obvious changes that required adjusting—my dad moving out, meeting my mom’s new boyfriend, etc. What wasn’t as noticeable was the interior effect the divorce was having on me as I grew up. I remember being complimented for how resilient I was as a child. We know, however, that resiliency is not enough to bring about healing. In fact, it is not uncommon that one can suffer deeply while remaining outwardly calm and apparently resilient. In Between Two Worlds: The Inner Lives of Children of Divorce, author Elizabeth Marquardt describes this inner suffering among even the most resilient, “We might look ‘fine’ to everyone else, but talk to us about our inner lives and you will find, just beneath the surface, a potent mix of loss and confusion that haunts us to this day.” (Marquardt, p.39)

Unlike the innocent childhood rites of passage that bring about a sense of pride and accomplishment, children who live through their parents’ divorce often experience an abrupt passage from childhood to premature adulthood. (cf. Wallerstein, Ch.3) The hard and jagged rock of a parents’ divorce deeply and profoundly impacts a child even beyond what others see or notice. Like a rock sunk in the bottom of a lake, it sinks into the inner depths of the heart. I wonder how many adult children of divorce suffer in silence because nobody notices the rock at the bottom after “the ripples” disappear? 

Although the experience of my parents’ divorce reminds me of ripples in a lake, I find that this image is truly inadequate to explain the full impact of divorce. It is more akin to an earthquake that shakes the very foundations. There is a profound difference between the waves of a ripple and the waves of an earthquake. An earthquake’s body wave goes much deeper than the surface, traveling through the inner layers of the earth. Divorce is like an interior earthquake and its shockwaves continue to be felt years later.

In February of 2011, Christchurch, New Zealand, was hit by a 6.2 magnitude earthquake. Later that year, in the summer I traveled to Christchurch to visit a friend of mine. While there I experienced powerful aftershocks which woke me up from deep sleep and spilled the water out of a drinking glass. It was unnerving and unsettling to feel the ground shake and to not know when the next aftershock would come and how long it would last.

While touring Christchurch, it was striking to see how much damage the earthquake had caused: liquifying areas of the ground so that the sidewalks were broken, destroying buildings and crumbling them into ruins, and making outwardly solid structures interiorly fractured and condemned as dwellings. Like the effects of an earthquake, with divorce the solid ground of family relationships that a child has known are “liquified” and can become a dangerous path of divided loyalties. Things that were once precious are broken and destroyed. The home is condemned as no longer being a place of mutual dwelling.

Although my parents divorced when I was in elementary school, their divorce continues to send shockwaves into my life thirty years later. This past year as I watched my dad suffer from terminal cancer and accompanied him in his passing, I embraced the familiar and heavy burden of being a child caretaker. I sometimes wonder why such a burden of responsibility had to fall on my shoulders. I love my parents deeply and my mom and I are very close, yet I couldn’t help but feel waves of pain and anger that my mom was not there with him, caring for him in his final days, especially when she lived so close. My parents’ divorce still impacts me and still hurts, especially at moments like these.

Within the foggy daze of minutes after my dad passed, I was on the phone with my mom and it became apparent that she wanted to see him one last time. It was too hard for her not to be there. How strange for me to invite my mom over to my dad’s house as a guest, to see her ex-spouse and say a final goodbye after his death. While on the surface I tried to remain calm, composed, and supportive of everyone else’s needs at that moment, I couldn’t help but feel another wave of grief and pain touch the depths of my soul. I wish they could have said goodbye in their own home, with the devotion, tenderness, and affection of married love. 

Although I still feel shockwaves inside of me and never quite know when they will occur, I also know that I am not alone and that God continues to invite me to deeper healing. The Lord wants to rebuild broken places. (Cf. Isaiah 58:12) He wants to provide solid, level ground for our feet. (Cf. Psalm 55:23) He wants to make His permanent dwelling within us. (Cf. Ezekiel 37:27; Leviticus 26:11-12; John 1:14; John 14:1-3; John 14:23; Revelation 21:1-4) All ACODs have the right to experience the healing love of God and find support for their journey. Working with a good Catholic therapist continues to help me move beyond the surface of my resilience to the deeper impact that my parents’ divorce has in my life, where God is waiting with His healing love. Where might God be inviting you to take the next step on your healing journey?

About the author:

Emily Rochelle graduated from Franciscan University of Steubenville with a Master’s in Catechesis and Evangelization in 2021. Having experienced her parents’ divorce while she was in elementary school, Emily has a heart of compassion for those who suffer and a deep desire to bring the healing love of Christ into people’s lives. She lives in Wisconsin with her husband.

Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals

  1. Reflect on Emily’s sentences, “If a child’s life is like “still waters,” divorce is like a crashing rock that upsets the water.” And, divorce “is more akin to an earthquake that shakes the very foundations. There is a profound difference between the waves of a ripple and the waves of an earthquake. An earthquake’s body wave goes much deeper than the surface, traveling through the inner layers of the earth.“ Thinking upon the interior and exterior ripples, or the deep travelling waves, how does that resonate with your experience?

  2. Individually or as a group, dig deeper into this analogy: ripples and earthquakes. What comes up?

  3. Where might God be inviting you to take the next step on your healing journey?

Emily Rochelle

Emily Rochelle graduated from Franciscan University of Steubenville with a Master’s in Catechesis and Evangelization in 2021. Having experienced her parents’ divorce while she was in elementary school, Emily has a heart of compassion for those who suffer and a deep desire to bring the healing love of Christ into people’s lives. She lives in Wisconsin with her husband.

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"All that I had and might have had I leave to you": A Reading of The Lord of the Rings as an Adult Child of Divorce