A Thousand Broken Hearts

“Every divorce is the death of a small civilization.”
        - novelist Pat Conroy

Each January since 1996 I’ve asked the clerk of the District Circuit Court for the Harrisonburg-Rockingham County marriage and divorce statistics for the previous year.

Fifteen years ago there were 873 marriage licenses issued and 387 divorces granted. Surprisingly, those numbers haven’t changed much. Last year, in spite of a huge population increase in the past decade and a half, the numbers were 933 and 433. In the prior year, 2010, they were only 879 and 358.

At first glance, that may seem like good news. The divorce numbers have remained stable, and the ratio of marriage to divorce numbers hasn’t worsened.  One could even conclude that (only?) around 45% of marriages in our area fail, consistent with national marriage statistics. And some of these divorces, of course, are by people who are experiencing their second, third, or fourth breakups, so it doesn't mean that every couple's first marriage faces the same dismal odds.

But as I point out in an earlier blog, this doesn’t take into account the increasing numbers of couples who hook up and break up each year who are not legally married. Many of these cohabiting couples are in exclusive relationships that are just as psychologically bonded as the wedded ones, and which result in equally painful "emotional divorces" when they break up--which they do in even larger numbers than their legally married counterparts.

But let’s just consider the heartbreak involved in the 433 cases of officially recorded divorces last year.  That means heartbreak for each of the 866 spouses directly involved, and if these couples had an average of one child or step child each (a conservative estimate), that would mean the lives of 1199 people have been forever altered by the “deaths” of their small civilizations, and that doesn’t include the siblings, grandparents. and other close friends and extended family members who are impacted.

I find that heartbreaking. And in bringing this up on Valentines Day, I don’t intend any of this to be condemning or judgmental. Sometimes divorces may be the only sane way to deal with patterns of behaviors like adultery, abuse or addictions in a relationship. But I feel a sense of heartache and grief nevertheless, one that makes me grateful for my having the good fortune of being in a marriage that, while not without its problems, has been a steady source of so much support and blessing.

This morning I included a copy of the following words by Winnie the Pooh, no less, in a Valentine card I gave my beloved:

If you live to be a hundred,
I want to live to be a hundred minus one day,
so I will never have to live a day without you.

Thanks, Alma Jean, for staying married to me for 47 years.

P.S.

Here are the actual numbers of marriage licenses issued and divorces granted in Harrisonburg/Rockingham County from 1996 -2011. You'll note that the marriage numbers peaked ten years ago, as did the divorce numbers:

96  873   387

97  950   405

98  964   396

99  932   405

00  947   365

01 1003  438

02  976   421

03  961   399

04  959   437

05  889   381

06  929   389

07  925   434

08  950   405

09  903   347

10   879   358

11   933   433

All We Have is Love

 We just returned last night from being at our brother-in-law Vernon Zehr's memorial service at the Greenwood (Delaware) Mennonite Church, a bittersweet time of remembering, celebrating and mourning. It was one of the most moving funerals I have ever attended.

On the return trip, emotions still fresh and raw, I kept thinking about a piece our singer/songwriter son Brad wrote in 2005, and which is recorded on his latest album. He had just been with us for a weekend, and on his way home reflected on what he felt for members of his family, no matter how challenging relationships with loved ones can be:

           love is all I have for you,
           it will have to do,
           if you were looking for a miracle,
           the fact that we’re still here, 
           well that’s miraculous as anything
           that I have seen magicians pull,
           but I forgot the tricks I knew,
           love is all I have for you..

love is all I have for you,
love is all that’s left after the wind has blown the chaff away,
I laugh at what I tried to save,
and disappointment’s just a lens to magnify what might have been,
but none of that was ever true,
love is all I have for you,

I close my eyes, I’m a child by the water,
casting stones so circles spread,
then blink twice, and we’re old on a park bench,
watching birds eat scattered bread,
in between we lost track of time,
but she is kind enough to remind us..

the little space between goodbyes is really only pocket-sized,
I carry you around with me in case I need some sympathy,
this fear that we’re not good enough will disappear when morning comes,
‘cause none of that was ever true,
love is all I have for you..

miraculous as anything that I have seen magicians do,
but I forgot the tricks I knew,
love is all I have for you…

In the end, love is what endures. More than even faith or hope, love never dies. It's what we have left after everyone and everything else is gone.

The Opposite of Death

The book, “Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and my Long Trek Home,” published by Three Rivers Press in 2006, is one of the most gripping I've read in a long time. In it Nando Parado describes the harrowing experience of being in a plane crash on a glacier in the Andes Mountains, 12,000 feet above sea level, where he was stranded, cut off from communication with the outside world, and given up for dead with other members and fans of his rugby team on their way to Chile.

Nando lost his mother and sister and other friends in that fateful accident and in the days that followed. After weeks of desperately trying to survive in the bitter cold, resorting to eating remains of frozen cadavers to avoid starvation, he and two other survivors resolved they must try to find their way back to civilization for help, in spite of the risk and their lack of sufficient food and adequate clothing.

After miles of desperate climbing they reached a western ridge they thought would finally give them a view of civilization, only to find that when they finally got there they could see only more mountains. 

He writes, “In that moment all my dreams, assumptions and expectations of life evaporated into the thin Andean air. I had always thought that life was the actual thing, the natural thing, and that death was simply the end of living. Now, in this lifeless place, I saw with terrible clarity that death was the constant, death was the base, and life was only a short, fragile dream. In my despair, I felt a sharp and sudden longing for the softness of my mother and my sister, and the strong embrace of my father... and in that clarity of mind I discovered a simple, astounding secret: Death has an opposite, but the opposite is not mere living. It is not courage or faith or human will. The opposite of death is love.....Only love can turn mere life into a miracle, and draw precious meaning from suffering and fear...”

Nando and his friend did manage to press on and to eventually make their way back to civilization, and a rescue team was able to go back for the remaining 14 survivors at the crash site.

But this is a life-changing story you'll want to read for yourself.

Conditions for Living

I’ll always remember the distinction one of my seminary profs, David Augsburger, made between conditions for loving and conditions for living. As followers of Jesus we are commanded to respect, love and care for everyone unconditionally, even our enemies, he said, but there may be many conditions for living that define our relationships with others, whether in a friendship, as parents, as spouses or in any other partnership.

I may need to set reasonable and clear limits, for example, as to the amount of time or money I have to give to others. Or to make clear that I am willing to tolerate certain kinds of behaviors but not others. Then if these conditions are not respected, the deal is off. It is their choice as to whether they will value our relationship enough to observe necessary agreements and agreed on boundaries.

As an example, if I am to engage in some business transaction, I can reasonably insist that each party operate according to our contract, and not to make up arbitrary rules as we go along. I also have a right to expect that others engage in appropriate and respectful behaviors in the course of doing business. If those things don’t happen, I must still demonstrate agape love toward them (sometimes tough love), but am not obligated to continue doing business with them.

Bottom line: While there are no conditions for unselfish loving, there may be many conditions for everyday living.

To Alma Jean: Feliz Cumpleaños!

For the first time ever, I selected a card written in Español for Alma Jean’s birthday (today!). Neither of us actually knows the language, but I explained that I had run out of English words to tell her how much I loved her, so I felt a need to speak in another tongue, as follows; 

Las palabra no pueden expresar
mi felicidad y amore
que tengo para ti,
Y las palabras no pueden decirte
el goso que siento
porque se que tu me amas tambien.

Feliz Cumpleaños!

I thought this looked pretty cool in Spanish, and the translation in English, on the back of the card, said so much of what I truly feel:

Words cannot express
my happiness and the love
I have for you.
And words cannot tell you
the joy I feel
because you love me, too!

Happy Birthday! 

Six Dozen Red Roses for Dawn

Dawn always loved roses like these.

One of our nephews, Dr. Jonathan Yoder, decided on impulse one day to have a half dozen red roses delivered to his wife Dawn’s door. It was January 26, 2009, and he wanted to express his love for her on the thirtieth anniversary of their engagement.

In his haste to get in his order in on one of his busy days at his Atmore, Alabama, practice, he mistakenly ordered six dozen roses instead, which meant 72 of these fragrant beauties were delivered to his awestruck wife instead of six. Dawn was way beyond simply surprised, of course, and Jon, though chagrined at what he had to pay for his extravagance, figured his beloved wife was worth every bit of that and more, so the two of them enjoyed a big laugh over his mistake.

Neither of them could have imagined that on July 6, just over five months later, 50-year-old Dawn would be fatally struck by lightning just outside their home while taking out some household trash. When a friend from her church found her lying on the ground unconscious, she was rushed to a nearby hospital emergency room, then transferred to a medical center in Mobile where she lay in a coma and on life support for two agonizing days of waiting before being pronounced dead.

In an e-mail circulated among members of the extended family, Jon described his experience during that time,.. “My heart cries out... as I see my wife, and our children's mother lying helplessly, and I ask why?  But two things I know is that God is strong, and that he is loving.  Dawn remains essentially in a coma this morning with only the faintest response to pain, and minimal fluttering of the eyelids.  It is hard to see her like that, but we are praying for faith for a miracle...  There remains a huge knot in my abdomen where my stomach used to be, and the future looks uncertain...but one thing we know is who is in control....Continue to pray.... Your outpourings of love and support for us mean a lot more than you will ever know;  God is faithful...”

Dawn died on July 8, 2009, terribly missed as the wonderful mother of four young adult children, two sons and two daughters, and as the wife of Jonathan, with whom she lived and loved for 29 blessed years. She was a selfless and giving person who served her family, church family and community in countless ways, and who left a multitude of friends and family members in a prolonged state of grief and disbelief.

There is more to the story. Several years before Dawn had given her oldest daughter a rose bush to plant for her birthday, one of the unusually fragrant and rich red “Mr. Lincoln” variety. For years it bloomed faithfully every spring, but during the months following Dawn’s tragic death, it appeared to have died, resulting in Jonathan's deciding to simply mow over the remaining brown stems with his lawnmower.

To his surprise, however, a green shoot reappeared this past spring, bravely rising up from the mowed down plant. And as Jonathan lovingly watered and nourished the revived bush in memory of his one and only Dawn, it began to green and thrive.

Later last summer, on the July 17  morning of their oldest son Robert's wedding, Jon witnessed the resurrected plant’s first bloom of the season, an exceptionally beautiful dark red rose that reminded him powerfully of his precious Dawn.

It was as if she were saying, "I am still with you. Nothing we had together will ever be completely lost. Everything will bloom again forever. "

So we remember Dawn, surrounded by countless rich red roses.

To my one and only!

We aren't prone to lavish celebrations, but Alma Jean and I enjoyed a delicious pre-Valentine dinner together Saturday evening at the quiet little Calabria Italian restaurant nearby, after which I felt moved to write the following in a card I'd gotten for her:

Dearest Alma Jean,

It's hard to believe that on Valentine's Day 47 years ago we sent out the cards we had printed to officially announce our engagement, with the words:

two hearts
warmed by breath of God's own love
have met to melt into one

I don't know if we've accomplished the "melting into one" part (if that's even possible or desirable), but I believe we've managed to do something even better. Together we've created and maintained a partnership that has resulted in tons of precious memories, wonderful intimate moments, a stable and lasting marriage of over 46 years, three precious children, a great son- and great daughter-in-law, and soon to be six truly incredible grandchildren.

I chose this card because it said, in a few short words, exactly, exactly how I feel:

I love and adore you
   to no end--
My wonderful wife,
   my very best friend.

Happy Valentine's Day!