That four-letter word that is reconciliation

Originally published in the Daily Advocate Feb. 21, 2020

By Bethany J. Royer-DeLong
Pushing Ink no. 23

For those who are new to my columns, I feel now is the time to write about that four-letter word
that is reconciliation.

I call it the four-letter word because when the topic came up in my divorce support group
seemingly another life ago, it wasn’t popular. It met with a lot of four-letter words. Maybe not so
much spoken but certainly given a lot of thought.

I attended the DivorceCare program at Ginghamsburg Church in late 2010 and 2011, as I felt if
anyone needed support, it was me. (I’ll leave the extended version of the story for you to read in
book form if I’m so fortunate. I’ll keep you posted, and hopefully, the news will be sooner as
opposed to later.) The program was integral to getting me through. I cringe to think where I may
be today without that direction. Some of those options included a box in a back alley and a
jungle monastery.

In short, divorce is complicated, and I was unprepared for an entire evening class devoted to that
single word, reconciliation. It slides easily enough off the tongue unless you are a divorcee, then
it comes out more of a hiss with a lot of spit and teeth. Same went for the majority of my fellow
eight or so divorcees who formed an in-group, hanging out after class or on various occasions for
several months. My only regret is that we did not get club members only jackets.

The in-group wasn’t into the r-word and journal entries from that time state none of them
attended that particular class except yours truly and a slightly in-group gentleman I nicknamed
Khakis. Otherwise, I sat with noobs, curious (if a little furious), because that four-letter word
hung heavy in my head and heart during the entire time of my split and subsequent dissolution in
August 2010. Well-versed experience with divorce had taught me reconciliation was not
anywhere in a divorcee’s vocabulary or perhaps playbook is the better word for it.

I remember sitting deep in one of the sofas during that class, as the video that always ran at the
start of the evening repeated, in not quite word-for-word terms that if reconciliation was possible,
go for it. But I couldn’t — the backlash fear was too great. I did not dare say a peep to anyone.
Not a soul. What would people think or worse, say? I kept quiet because rejection by friends and
family was not something I was prepared to endure at the time.

The funny thing about it, a mix of silence and undercutting a pending ex-spouse, only made
matters worse, especially with friends as I tried to avoid what I truly wanted. Something that was
there, presenting itself on numerous occasions. One stand out is sitting beneath the rose-colored
walls of the county courthouse before the divorce hearing. The pending ex-spouse tried to talk to
me. Yours truly facing away, answering with as few words as possible. The memory makes me
laugh (now, of course) as I recall thinking what nerve! while entirely missing the cues sent my
way.
We divorced, I went back to school, returned to the newspaper business, and began to piece
together a book. I kept a backup plan if things didn’t work out. That previously mentioned
remote jungle monastery, once the munchkins were grown, of course. I had it all worked, too.
Just me and a half-dozen monkeys as my only social outlet, with toilet paper and People
magazine, dropped from a black-smoke belching biplane on its last wing and prayer.

Otherwise, it was to be a box. Newspaper work is a poor person’s work.

The book transformed as time moved forward, the earth continued to spin, as it tends to do
insultingly. Until almost two years from the day we separated, reconciliation became a reality. A
slow, and at times, agonizing process that had me tossing chapters, rewriting, editing, and more
tossing until finally, after all these years, I’m finally ready to share the story in full. Perhaps it
will spare others our mistakes, and if the chance presents itself, to consider that four-letter word
that is reconciliation.

I know the r-word won’t work for everyone. It’s a lot of work and timing is everything. There are
ups and downs and difficult conversations, leaving one to prefer ignorance at times. However,
the difference between the two of us in this near last decade compared to our first near-decade is
something that takes me by surprise every day. We are an entirely different couple. I don’t
recognize anything of our former selves. If not for journals, a steadfast blog with both published
and unpublished postings, and now a book, I would argue those previous people never existed.

What I’m trying to say under 900 words is the four-letter r-word that is reconciliation has been
worth it, so worth it.

So I wish Michael a slightly belated happy 20th original wedding anniversary. Sorry, it is the
easier of the dates to remember. Plus, it’s not the dates that matter so much as the fact we make
that four-letter word work for us every day, and we’ve become better people for it.

Just, um, keep that in mind, should a publisher say yes, OK?

Bethany J. Royer-DeLong is a reporter for the Daily Advocate and Early Bird and a life-
long resident of Darke County. She holds a bachelor’s degree in work psychology and a master’s
degree in organizational leadership because she’s a sucker for all things jobs. You may reach her
at broyer-delong@aimmediamidwest.com.