Gerry and Theresa weren’t married long enough to intertwine their lives.
I was still foggy at 8:32 this morning from the rush of lunch-making, dishwasher unstacking, and child-to-school shepherding that I do on weeks when my daughter is with me, when my phone chimed with a text: “Who woulda thought? The Golden Couple already split. I didn’t think they would stay together forever but I would have guessed they’d be too embarrassed to quit so soon. I forgot; it’s reality tv.”
The incoming was from my friend and mentor Ann, who had gotten hooked on the Golden Bachelor at Slate’s suggestion (and wrote this great piece about being 67 and single when the show’s finale aired last November). It took me a second: Who was she talking about? Ah, Gerry Turner and Theresa Nist, the senior citizen–aged lovebirds who had emerged triumphant at the end of Gerry’s turn as the septuagenarian Bachelor. Officially donezo. Talk about out of sight, out of mind. As Scott Nover wrote in Slate on Friday about the end of the pair’s three-month marriage, “the American attention span for Gerry and Theresa’s abbreviated love story had ended.”
Well, I guess I have a little more room in my personal attention span because I spent most of the day trying to figure out why these headlines about the Golden Couple’s divorce were bothering me so much. Yes, I admit, I followed the ins and outs of the whole season. I had even found peace with their match at the end. But I found their wedding—broadcast live on TV—to be both boring and ick. And, as they gave follow-up interviews about their future together, I did keep wondering: Were these two really going to move away from their respective grandchildren in Indiana and New Jersey and settle in … Charleston, South Carolina, as they claimed they would?
Now we know the answer is no. Per their rehearsed announcement on Good Morning America on Friday morning, they are splitsville. But I refuse to call it a divorce. At best, it is a “divorce,” the same way their relationship was a “marriage.” A divorce entails a splitting of assets. Discussions around family holidays and time spent with children. Decisions around who gets how much of the retirement funds, or the shared compact car. A divorce requires difficult decisions—notably, to end a marriage! There’s no way Gerry and Theresa had enough time together to assemble anything that requires a divorce as we commonly think of it. And even if they had to have some big talks about breaking up—deciding to get divorced can take some couples years!—how many discussions could there have truly been? They got married in January!
Now, it’s possible they’ll have an argument over that Golden Bachelor money, but I doubt it. Seems like the kind of thing that was worked out in reams of paperwork with ABC months ago. Surely they didn’t have a shared bank account at the time they were married, so they probably each got paid via ACH right into their own coffers—no stress there!
In case it is not clear by now, I’m speaking from experience. I am divorced. And I probably have one of the best divorce stories you will ever hear, in that my ex-husband and I are incredibly close, devoted co-parents and forever family. We have keys to each other’s houses, and we see each other all the time. Last weekend, our daughter stayed home with my (second) husband while I went to see a concert with my first husband. Can you follow that? It confuses people all the time!
But it wasn’t easy to get here. It was hard, because getting divorced is really hard! Even if, like us, you don’t own a home and things are relatively simple, the years of shared life and things and feelings are hard to parse. In the best case, you can end up like us. But often, the ending of a life together brings up so much stuff we try to shove in the back of the proverbial closet that the mess can never totally be cleaned up. Every divorced person I know tries their best. But there is a specific kind of lasting sadness—and often much worse—even when things are as amicable as humanly possible.
I am not sorry that Gerry and Theresa will be spared this lasting rubble. But let’s call the end of their “marriage” what it is: a breakup. They couldn’t decide on where to live, and things didn’t work out. It may legally be a divorce, but it amounts to little more than a short-lived, broken engagement.
