A Eulogy To My Marriage: Divorce Grief

A Eulogy To My Marriage

My name is Nina Violet Risch, and I was the wife in this marriage. More than that, I was the mother, the father, the cook, the maid, the nurse, the provider, the gardener, the matriarch, the lover, the therapist, and friend. I think many wives who have been married and divorced can relate to that. I now say goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted, but never had. 

I met my husband in 2010 while I was in the midst of divorcing the father of my third child. Our meeting was rather unexpected; it happened literally on the side of the road. At that time, my friend made an unkind remark about him, and I felt compelled to reprimand her. We started talking and quickly found ourselves unable to stop. There was a deep connection and understanding between us. He was grieving the loss of friends, while I was mourning the end of my marriage. I had experienced a lot of grief in my life, having lost my brother, father, husband, and one of my best friends at that time.

Looking back, I now clearly see that grief brought us together, but it became a guest who overstayed their welcome. I came with three children, ages 4-12. He was only 26, and I was 40. He was an old soul, but I allowed his immature behavior and an unequal partnership because of our age difference. I assumed he would grow up. He never did. Was it me or him? That part no longer matters because love was not enough after16 years. We both denied, bargained, fought, made up, and forgave, but we never improved, changed, or resolved any problems. I say goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted, but never had. 

So what did this wife learn about herself? I learned that I can tolerate and accept an unhappy relationship for an incredibly long time. I learned that even when you love someone deeply. You can’t love them into getting help, loving themselves, and wanting them to become a better person who learns from their mistakes. I hoped and believed my love could make someone’s deep depression and self-loathing go away. I carried the weight of mental illness for him so he did not have to. It is a weight I am no longer willing to carry because he would not. I say goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted, but never had. 

Our marriage went through numerous ups and downs, and despite our desire for a change, we both found ourselves slipping back into the same unhealthy patterns. It became clear that glimmers of hope alone couldn't sustain the balance, peace, fulfillment, safety, progress, success, motivation, purpose, and joy we sought. I realized I was in a relationship where these vital elements were largely absent. I had learned to provide for myself, which made it less significant that he didn't contribute to my well-being. This pattern felt familiar, shaped by my upbringing, and strangely, it felt comfortable to me.

As a mother of three, I often overlooked the faults in my marriage because my children came first. However, the issues in my unhealthy marriage were significant, and I chose not to acknowledge them. My children, on the other hand, always recognized what I was unwilling to see. They are the smartest, most loving, supportive, honest, and intuitive individuals I have ever had the privilege to know. I will always regret that my troubled marriage affected them, just as it affected me. We all know, feel, and see this reality, yet many, including myself, still choose to stay in such situations. I am working on forgiving myself, and I know my children have already forgiven me.

I am grieving for something I never had: a healthy marriage, a supportive partnership, a strong relationship, or a true friendship. We have said and done things to each other that we would not accept from any friend. I am saying goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted but never had.

I no longer want to hope that something will change. I never want to wait for someone to become happy or change when they clearly do not want to. I do not want to be angry anymore. I want to be free. I chose to accept unhappiness because I waited for a marriage that would not come. I don’t know if I am more angry at myself for not being able to fix it or mad at my soon-to-be ex-husband for letting me carry the weight for both of us. You can’t force people to see what they don’t want to see.

As a grief coach, I understand that each person needs their own "lightbulb moment" to move forward. I am no different. No one can truly guide you on what to do if you're not ready or willing to see things from a new perspective. We often remain in unsafe and uncomfortable situations because they are familiar; however, familiarity does not equate to safety.

I recognized the reality of my marriage, but was reluctant to let go, even to my own detriment. This is a pattern that I am now choosing to break. I no longer want relationships to drain me spiritually or consume my time in a way that harms me and obstructs my goals. I realize that I need to prioritize myself, which I have not allowed to happen until now. I am saying goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted but never had.

As I lay this marriage down to rest, I feel the beginning of me. The me I always deserved to have. I want time for my self-care and most of all joy. There was no joy in my marriage because my husband could not feel it. I am not sure he ever did. I tried to become happy for both of us, and that was always an unattainable task. Grieving again makes me not only have to practice what I preach, but it also makes me vulnerable, human, raw, wounded, and honest. This marriage was over long before divorce was initiated for the second and final time. The legacy of this marriage is the rebirth of me. A painful, horrible, tragic and sad ending because I love a man I can’t be married to and stay healthy. I say goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted, but never had. 

With each tear, I let the negative go; with each tear, I let him go, with each tear I let the anger and resentment to subside. I know the peace I want is inside me, pushed aside for someone else. I say goodbye to the idea of the marriage I always wanted, but never had. I let my marriage go with love and hope that we both find joy, happiness, and love ourselves the way we deserve. 

The death of my marriage is my beginning.