In junior high school, we were asked to investigate the topic of our choice and to provide both a written and an oral report for English class. At the time I was dating a cute 7th grade classmate whose parents were divorced, so I ambitiously selected the topic, "Children of Divorce."
I recall checking a not very good book from the library in order to deliver not very robust conclusions that amounted to: divorce brings children closer to their siblings.
After my oral report, a cerebral acquaintance discreetly walked over to me after class. He was a nice kid, studious, and he seemed genuine in his hurt. His parents had divorced when he was in grade school, he informed me quietly, and the experience tore him and his brother apart.
Caught off guard, I apologized - tried to explain that the book I'd read had suggested otherwise, and I was sorry if it had not conformed to his lived reality.
It made me aware at age 13 that events like divorce have the potential to accelerate existing stress in relationships.
This made me cautious after my father died. I have three siblings, each with very different personalities and priorities. I was concerned about whether losing dad would bring us closer together of split us further apart.
I was also concerned about how we could support my mom in her new widowhood.
Interestingly, losing dad brought out our best selves. Petty rivalries from childhood occasionally surfaced, but generally we were able to compartmentalize them so as not to pour fuel on old fires that had mostly died down to embers.
Two of us had become intimately involved in helping our parents manage their financial and household affairs over the final two years of my dad's long goodbye so as to learn directly from him the various accounts, passwords and players (CPA, attorney, etc.) that would be essential to guiding my mom to safety after he'd passed.
Of the two who had been less involved, one was grateful. The other initially asked to be privy to the same information, perhaps feeling excluded. I told that sibling that I had no problem sharing information as long as it also meant shouldering shared responsibility - if I was going to go to the trouble of getting copies of all the information, I expected that the day the lights went out that person would be equally accountable for getting them up and running.
On further consideration, this sibling expressed gratitude for our involvement and offered to help as needed - a response that struck the right tone:
I realize what you are doing for mom is hard and takes a ton of time; if you need more help, please reach out to me and I'll support you.
Thankfully, we continue to be our best selves one year out from my father's death. It's a fragile coalition built from love and for support, and I'm grateful that's how things have turned out, and make every decision with great caution in knowledge of how little it would take to disrupt that equilibrium.