by Meagan Frank (Divorce/Ice Cream/Delightful)
Why did we have to be eating ice cream?
It would have been better if she’d told me over a bowl of prunes. I don’t like prunes.
I used to like ice cream.
It didn’t make anything better…it just made ice cream worse.
She said, “Divorce” and I sat quietly as the ice and cream separated. I rolled the breaking word in my mouth and there was not any more room for delightful sugar. Instead, I watched the ice melt and the cream pull itself away.
I tried to convince myself that the two should never have been together in the first place, and then I sadly threw my bowl away.
She is the cream…he has always been ice.
She made him tolerable, and now he’ll never be anything but cold…I just know it.
It’s not like I’m surprised or anything. I’ve heard them for weeks. Huddled near the bathroom vent, Cole, Trinity and I listened to the collisions and the churning… nothing sweet about that.
So now, I silently hug the window of the back seat with my body posture. Gray outside, dark inside and I’ve decided to hate ice cream.
We drive into the garage much sooner than I’m ready to be home, and there won’t be a single day from now on that I don’t have this broken perspective. This is how the world will be…from now on.
I slowly follow the quiet steps of my siblings into the glow of our November family room, and I immediately wish I could stay outside in the cold. The room is warm, the two pairs of eyes are welcoming, but I don’t want to feel comfortable yet.
My little brother and sister are much less devastated than I am. They run for my grandparents and I slide myself in along the wall.
“Shannon, aren’t you going to come give your grandpa a hug?”
I tentatively turn myself into his outstretched arms and I let him do the hugging.
He spins me to face him, “Darlin’, I know you’re hurting. It will get better, I promise.”
I look up into his smiling eyes and, even though I want to, I can’t pull myself away.
“You don’t know that Grandpa,” I snort at him.
“I might not know it, but I believe it,” he tilts a smile at me, “And believin’ is all it takes.”
His hands still gently lay on my shoulders and I want to believe him. I want to trust that he is right, like he’s been so many times before, but there is not a single way I know how to trust him with this one. He’s never been ice, but I’m starting to realize I’ve never really understood ice cream. What do I know about anything?
I bury my face in his cardigan sweater and because I cannot stop the tears this time, I let them come. I quietly proclaim in his chest, “I don’t think I’ll ever like ice cream again.”
He pulls back from me to look at my tear-streaked face.
“What? No ice cream? What flavor did you have today?”
I wipe my face with the back of my hand saying, “Rocky Road.”
“Well no wonder! Rocky Road is a tough flavor to like all the time. When you’re ready, I’ll take you out for ice cream again. You’ll just have to try a different kind. And if you don’t like it that day…we’ll just have to keep tryin’. I believe better days are in your future, young lady. Because really, how could it get much worse?”
I feel the corner of my mouth curl up in a little smile and I gratefully hug him for always being warm.
Why did we have to be eating ice cream?
It would have been better if she’d told me over a bowl of prunes. I don’t like prunes.
I used to like ice cream.
It didn’t make anything better…it just made ice cream worse.
She said, “Divorce” and I sat quietly as the ice and cream separated. I rolled the breaking word in my mouth and there was not any more room for delightful sugar. Instead, I watched the ice melt and the cream pull itself away.
I tried to convince myself that the two should never have been together in the first place, and then I sadly threw my bowl away.
She is the cream…he has always been ice.
She made him tolerable, and now he’ll never be anything but cold…I just know it.
It’s not like I’m surprised or anything. I’ve heard them for weeks. Huddled near the bathroom vent, Cole, Trinity and I listened to the collisions and the churning… nothing sweet about that.
So now, I silently hug the window of the back seat with my body posture. Gray outside, dark inside and I’ve decided to hate ice cream.
We drive into the garage much sooner than I’m ready to be home, and there won’t be a single day from now on that I don’t have this broken perspective. This is how the world will be…from now on.
I slowly follow the quiet steps of my siblings into the glow of our November family room, and I immediately wish I could stay outside in the cold. The room is warm, the two pairs of eyes are welcoming, but I don’t want to feel comfortable yet.
My little brother and sister are much less devastated than I am. They run for my grandparents and I slide myself in along the wall.
“Shannon, aren’t you going to come give your grandpa a hug?”
I tentatively turn myself into his outstretched arms and I let him do the hugging.
He spins me to face him, “Darlin’, I know you’re hurting. It will get better, I promise.”
I look up into his smiling eyes and, even though I want to, I can’t pull myself away.
“You don’t know that Grandpa,” I snort at him.
“I might not know it, but I believe it,” he tilts a smile at me, “And believin’ is all it takes.”
His hands still gently lay on my shoulders and I want to believe him. I want to trust that he is right, like he’s been so many times before, but there is not a single way I know how to trust him with this one. He’s never been ice, but I’m starting to realize I’ve never really understood ice cream. What do I know about anything?
I bury my face in his cardigan sweater and because I cannot stop the tears this time, I let them come. I quietly proclaim in his chest, “I don’t think I’ll ever like ice cream again.”
He pulls back from me to look at my tear-streaked face.
“What? No ice cream? What flavor did you have today?”
I wipe my face with the back of my hand saying, “Rocky Road.”
“Well no wonder! Rocky Road is a tough flavor to like all the time. When you’re ready, I’ll take you out for ice cream again. You’ll just have to try a different kind. And if you don’t like it that day…we’ll just have to keep tryin’. I believe better days are in your future, young lady. Because really, how could it get much worse?”
I feel the corner of my mouth curl up in a little smile and I gratefully hug him for always being warm.
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