Her Spouse Left Her. What Should Her Friends Do?

I just got off of the phone with my best friend who shared news about one of our closest friends from college.  Knowing this new information explains a lot—why our friend has been out of touch for the last year, why our invitations to get our growing families together have gone unanswered, and why this friend has seemed closed-up and cold on the rare occasions that she and I connected on the phone.

Her husband left her. 

They’ve been separated for almost a year. 

He left her even before their second child was born, when she was several months pregnant.  Divorce papers are in the works. 

How did I not know this? Sure, she’s a few states away, but not more than a two or three hour drive.  What kind of friend am I that I haven’t been there to support her during this extremely difficult time? 

The second after I hung up the phone, I put two of my kids down for their rest times, and I sat down to check my email.  The first one I read was from a fellow blogger, a woman with whom I have been working for the last few months on some education-related projects.  Her email began, “. . . it has been a rough month, and it’s so hard to even admit this, but (to make matters worse) my husband has decided to leave. “

Seriously?  What. The. Heck.

The sick feeling I had in my heart for my dear college friend was repeated—within a fifteen minute period—for my other friend.  Both women have young children at home.  Their worlds are turned upside down.

I feel helpless, frustrated, and deeply sad for my friends.  And I’m confused about what my role is—or should be—as supports for these women. 

Sure, I have a deeper history with my college pal; we shared four tumultuous years together at school, traveled together, and walked through those ups and downs of early adulthood together.  We’ve laughed and cried together, and our group spent many times together as young, childless, and newly-married couples.  

Maybe the relationship I have with my blog-friend—and the security of the internet and the safety of our cyber-relationship--made it easier for her to tell me about her husband leaving. I told her I was so sorry, that I am here if she needs support, but now what? 

However, with my college friend, that this secret was kept from a few of us for a year complicates things.  Do I just call her now, say, "Hey, how are you--really?" and expect her to catch me up on things? Do I call and act like I don't know and have her re-live everything over the phone? Do I just wait until she's ready and she calls me to chat? What can I do to make it easier for her, to support her during this difficult time? 

Let me be clear: I know this has nothing to do with me, and I’m guessing that my friend might be embarrassed, angry, and confused herself.  Maybe she needs time to clear her head and focus on her own feelings and her family--her two-year-old and new baby.

But when a friend is in need, I want to be there to offer support and love.  Part of me wants to call her, tell her I know everything, I'm sorry, and that I wish I could fix things. I want to take her some coffee, treat her to a pedicure, or to bring over groceries. I want to tell her I'm sick that I didn't call more, respond to her emails more carefully, call more often or make time to visit her.

The other half of me wants to give her time and space.  Lots of it--if that's what she needs.  

This is uncharted territory for me; I'm okay with girlfriend-boyfriend breakups, minor heartbreaks, and moving through difficult times in a relationship.  But separation? Divorce? 

She's the first of my friends to experience this, and I'm not so sure what to do.

This is an original DC Metro Moms post.

Amy M. usually has some idea about how to handle most situations--especially if they deal with three little kids, five years old and under. But the big guys? Big issues? That's where she gets stumped.  Big time.  Right now, she's just trying to make more of an effort to slow down, breathe deeply, and soak in the holiday season over at teachmama.