Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Tough Stuff by Jack Canfield

same thing. We were in agreement in our grief. And now we were left with one chair painfully empty at our table for three.
    Isabel Philley
As told to C. S. Dweck

A Most Precious Gift
    Divorce. The word alone sends chills down some people’s backs, but not mine. It may sound unusual, but my parents’ divorce was, in a way, the best thing that ever happened to our family. You see, I can hardly recollect what it was like for my parents to be married. It all seems like a very distant memory, like a story from another lifetime.
    It was the New Year’s Eve right after my sixth birthday when my father moved out. All I remember was being in my family room and receiving a good-bye hug from him. My brother, who was four, consoled my mom and me. My dad left us all crying miserably. I thought I was never going to see my beloved daddy again. But the following Monday night, there he was. And our weekly dinner ritual was born.
    He came to pick my brother and me up for dinner every Monday and Thursday night. And every other weekend he would take us to his new apartment where we would spend the night. For some reason, I learned to love my new life. I knew that every week I couldn’t make other plans on our dinner nights; it was our precious time to spend with our dad. I learned how to pack a bag for the weekend trips to the apartment, trying hard not to miss a thing. Over the years our dinner ritual had to work around dance, basketball, tennis, art classes and golf leagues. But it always came first.
    Three years after my parents got divorced, when I was nine, my mother got remarried to Marty. He’s wonderful and has been making me giggle ever since with his brilliant sense of humor. Adding another man to his children’s lives may have angered some fathers, but not mine. My dad took our new stepfather out and befriended him.
    With our new stepfather came an older stepbrother and an enormous extended family. Three years later, my dad finally found the love of his life, and my brother and I were blessed with a not-at-all-wicked stepmother, Suzi. Suzi’s son and daughter quickly became part of the family as well.
    Now that my mom and Marty have been married for over nine years and my dad and Suzi for six, it has become impossible for me to even imagine my parents married to each other. Over the years, when people have been introduced to all of my parents and observe their relationships with each other, they tell me that my family is a prime example of how life should be after a divorce.
    When I meet new people and they find out that my parents are divorced, they always apologize and sympathize. But to me, my parents’ divorce is not something to be sorry about. A divorce in itself is sad, an ending, but the outcome in our case has been great for all of us. For our birthdays we all go out to dinner, the six of us. My parents have remained friends, and my mom and Suzi have even golfed together.
    I wouldn’t change anything about my life. I have eight grandparents, four parents, four siblings, too many aunts and uncles to count, and an endless amount of cousins. Love and support surround me no matter what or whose FAMILY MATTERS 83 house I happen to be at. With the help of my family I have learned to cope during the hard times. But above all, I have learned that love is immeasurable and, when shared, the most precious gift of all.
    Jessica Colman

Memories of My Mother
    I still miss those I loved who are no longer with me but I find I am grateful for having loved them. The gratitude has finally conquered the loss.
    Rita Mae Brown
    In January of 1998, I got the kind of call all actresses hope for: I had won the role of Julie Emrick on a new TV drama called Felicity. It should have been one of the most exciting moments of my life, but three months earlier something had happened that would forever put things in perspective. In October 1997, my mom, Christine Johnson, was diagnosed with cancer. Ten months later, she