Two houses, one home

bro·ken ’br_-ken adj 4a: cut off: DISCONNECTED b: imperfectly spoken or written <~English> 5a: not complete or full 6: disunited by divorce, separation, or desertion of one parent <children from ~ homes> <a ~ family> — broken·ly adv —bro·ken·ness n

MANILA, Philippines - Webster and his legion of lexicographers might try very hard to define what it means to be broken; or to come from, or to have, or to belong to, a broken home but it is only through experience that one can truly realize the meaning of coming from, having and belonging to a home that has been broken.

As for me, I experienced it at an early age, way before I can spell the said word. My parents got separated when I was still a two-month-old. I remember vaguely that my mother, when I turned five, explained to me that they have parted their ways and that, I might not be seeing my father for a long, long time.

I got fully acquainted with the word when I was in grade school. I remember my teachers always asking me where my father was or why I put “N/A” on his occupation, address, date of birth, etc. It was like putting spoonfuls of salt to an open wound. I have this recollection that it was during this developmental stage when I learned that I was defying what seemed to be the norm because I was a child of a broken home.

And then I encountered this red book from Adarna House when I was still a Family Life and Child Development major in UP Diliman, entitled Papa’s House, Mama’s House by Jean Lee C. Patindol. It was a daring book in a sense that it tackles separation, and as though it isn’t daring enough, it is intended to be read by, or for, children. 

It starts with the lines: “Ana, Bianca, and I live in two houses. There is Papa’s House. And there is Mama’s house.” Right then, I was hooked. I wanted to see how this author would explain this very sensitive topic. I wonder how this author would tell my story, and the story of countless, innumerable children who became part of the painfully increasing statistics of coming from, having, and belonging to broken homes.

How do you tell a child in the simplest form that his or her parents are going to be separated — meaning, they would not wake up together, pray together, eat together, go to parent-teacher conferences together, attend recitals and field demonstrations and whatever school programs together, cry over skinned knees or over a beloved pet’s death together, celebrate graduation and college admissions together, share triumphs and defeats together, and live life to the fullest together?

Well, none of these was tackled (for those were my own longings) but I still stand in awe how the author was able to conceive, prepare and deliver the most sensible explanation of why two people, known to you as your Papa and Mama, are separating without using the words “irreconcilable differences.” And here goes:

“Papa, why can’t you and Mama live with us in one home?”

Papa said, “Do you think trains and planes can travel together?”

And I said, “Umm…I guess not. Trains go by land and planes fly in air.”

Papa patted my head and smiled.

The next day I asked Mama.

“Mama, why can’t you and Papa live with us in one home?”

Mama took out my paint set and said,

“Let’s mix white and yellow together. What color do you get?”

Yuck! We got the color of Bianca’s poo-poo!

Next we mixed black and green together.

Even yuckier! We got the color of Ana’s poo-poo!

And so I said,”So some colors aren’t pretty together, huh, Mama?”

Mama hugged me tightly.

In the context of the child’s world, it was explained appropriately. Who would think that through trains and planes, yellows and whites and blacks and greens, the most crucial message that can make or break a child’s heart can be properly delivered? We always assume that some topics are not for children and underestimate their way of processing and understanding things. We neglect the fact that although at certain age they cannot yet grasp abstract concepts (yes, Piaget’s theory attests to that), they are individuals who can feel love and who can get hurt.

Most people wondered why I did not end up a drug addict, a teenage mom, or a school dropout — in short, an unsuccessful and pathetic individual expected of a child from a broken home. And I say, it was the way my mother brought me up without ingraining contempt for my father and respecting my right to know about our situation and explaining to me early on what we are dealing without the sugarcoat and then providing me all the opportunities for growth, understanding all my shortcomings and loving me unconditionally. 

It is in the way we use words, the way we define concepts, the way we explain things with children that significantly affect their outlook in life. It is our responsibility to get them through this process of being broken and being healed for, in the first place, it was not their responsibility that they were brought into this complicated world. It was a situation that confronted not only the rich and the poor, not only the whites and the blacks, but all people in general.

Liane Peña-Alampay, a developmental psychologist, has this to say about the book: “It sends the message that children in ‘two homes’ are not different, nor are they loved and nurtured any less by their parents than children in two-parent homes. Papa’s House, Mama’s House opens the way for greater tolerance, understanding and empathy in children and adults alike.”