15October2025 Diary
Im still trying to untangle the mess that erupted over the phone this morning. Emma, my sister, was trying to explain to my mother, Mary, that our father, Alan, had asked us to pass a little message along. He wants to come back, she said, as if that made any sense. Its been almost fifteen years since the divorce, and for most of that time Mary and Alan have been strangers living parallel lives.
I didnt know how to put it, but I told her: I get it. In youth we all make the same stupid mistakes, but now theres nothing left to split. Mary seemed baffled. Theres nothing we share any more, except you two, she replied. You and Lucy are adults with families of your own. You decide who you talk to. Why am I even involved?
Alan tried to justify it. We thought youd be reluctant to listen to him, so we asked us to put in a word for him. It would be easier for Lucy and me if we knew you were still living together and supporting each other.
Before Mary could gather her thoughts, Lucy called, bringing up the same painful subject. Mum, you have to understand its our dad, and hes not well, she pleaded. Mary tried to stay calm. When your father was young and full of vigor, he never even thought of me. Now suddenly hes changed? she muttered. Maybe youve forgotten he left us for another woman years ago!
Darcy, the family friend who likes to meddle, added, Theyve been apart for ages, but you two could still live together; youre getting on in years, after all.
The conversation left Mary feeling heavyhearted. Shed given everything to the marriage, never tried to rebuild a life after the split for fear of hurting the kids, who were still coping with the shock of their parents separation during their teenage years. Now it seemed they were speaking completely different languages, barely hearing one another. The memory of the day Alan walked out resurfaced, making the pain sharper.
He had once said, eyes downcast, I dont love you anymore. Ive found someone else and want to spend the rest of my days with her. Emma had asked, voice trembling, What about the kids? He replied, Youll live as before, just without me. The flat is yours; Ill see the children when I can and help with money, but I dont love you.
When Mary pressed, Did you think about how theyd take your departure at our age? he shrugged, Theyll be fine. Theyll learn about adult life; living without love isnt right, sorry. He kept his word and never claimed the house after the divorce, staying with his new partner instead. He met the children only on neutral ground, too shy to step into the flat, and his new girlfriend never invited them over. Mary once tried to explain the reasons behind the split, but the kids werent interested in the details.
Dad told us it was his decision and asked us to respect it, James said, now a grown man, his tone sharper than before. Its tough with Lucy, but eventually itll settle.
For Mary, nothing settled. She missed Alan, wept into her pillow at night, and turned down every suggestion from friends to set her up with someone new. The only contact he made was a brief phone call about a fishing trip.
Were heading off for a weekend by the lake, and I left my tackle on the loft, Alan said. Can I pick it up on Saturday? I asked the kids to bring it, but they didnt know where it was.
Alright, come over, Mary replied as calmly as she could. She spent the whole week rehearsing that Saturday conversation, planning to show Alan she could thrive without him, perhaps even meet him under the marquee of an old village fête. Then she thought it would look ridiculous and backed off.
She watched Alan pack his boxes and said, Youve lost weight. Is your new wife not feeding you?
Hes just busy with work, he said, avoiding the subject.
I could cook for you, or send your favourite recipes to her, Mary blurted, knowing how foolish she sounded but unable to stop.
Youre being sarcastic, Alan snapped, weary. Were strangers now. Well always share the kids, later the grandchildren, and thats all.
Are you sure? Mary asked, a hint of hope in her voice.
Yes, he answered firmly.
He then moved in with his new wife, leaving Mary alone in the kitchen, tears streaming. In the year after the divorce she had lost a lot of weight, tried to pull herself together, and pretended to be cheerful while secretly hoping Alan would have a change of heart and return. She knew people would judge her, but she was ready to take him back and forget the past.
Three years later, Lucy and James told Mary that Alans partner had left him, and hed moved into a dorm room at the local university hall. That news sparked a flicker of hope in Marys heart that maybe he might come back. She began dressing sharply, caring for her appearance, waiting for his first move. Friends said she was making a drama of her love life, but she brushed it off with jokes. Alan never returned; instead, he married someone else. He even attended his sons wedding, but showed up alone for Lucys.
Why was he alone? Mary asked.
His wife Irina was on a business trip, couldnt make it, but sent her congratulations, he replied calmly.
Eventually Mary began to view things differently. She stopped waiting, found solace in her work, bought a small cottage in the Cotswolds, and spent free time on herself. The children had their own lives; she filled hers with friends, relatives, flowers, and one stray cat she rescued and named Whiskers. Life settled into a quiet rhythm, until the day the kids brought up the old argument again. A few days of anxiety passed, and then, as she was bringing in groceries, Alan appeared at the entrance of the block, returning from work.
Ive realised we should leave the bad behind, he said, sipping tea at the kitchen table. Most of our lives are behind us; the negative has grown like weeds, not worth revisiting. Lets finish our days together and raise grandchildren.
Tell me honestly, why are you back in our flat and not with any of your other partners? Mary asked, no longer pretending to be delighted.
My health isnt what it used to be; Im retiring next year, he answered. I thought the kids would still be there for us, even in old age, bringing a glass of water when needed.
You remember telling me we were strangers? she asked, looking into his eyes. I understood it later, and now I fully agree.
So you wont take me back? he asked.
You dont worry, Mary replied. You said the kids are good and wont abandon you. You crossed me out of your life years ago; let it stay that way.
Alan left again, and Mary sat alone in her favourite armchair, switched off her phone, knowing he would soon call the children, who would start probing and persuading. All she wanted now was silence and peace. She had waited for his return for far too long; the flame finally burnt out. If he had spoken of wanting to grow old together, perhaps she would have taken him back, but he only cared about his own comfort. She still has her children, friends, cottage, and Whiskers, and that feels enough.
Lesson: clinging to a past that refuses to return only robs you of the present you can actually live.
