Oh, Susan. Mother wounds run so deep; they cut right to the bone, and sometimes, we must learn to love someone from a good distance, and with sure boundaries.
You have written a real and honest piece, it made me nod and sigh. Thank you for sharing this with us all. Peace to you. Healing, too.
I guess this means it was 35-ish years ago when I read your (Pulitzer) piece about that abuse. I was working with sexual abuse survivors at the time. And I was wowed by your writing and can still quote a few of your sentences. It had enormous impact. Thank you for opening up the conversation for so many people. I’m sorry you were hurt. I’m glad you made changes that saved your life. And I honor the way you have used it to enrich our community.
I'm sorry. Even when we adapt and grow around those wounds, they remain at some level. I had a similar split, though there were off-and-on periods of contact. I lived far away, and as she was declining and then dying, I made the choice not to go. The difficulties fell to my brother and sister, who lived nearby. We'd had little relationship ever because they were a lot older, and my sister was off into her religious world and my brother is a steadfast right-wing racist. I decided I would accept their anger and low opinion of me and any sense of shame that might come from anyone knowing I had stayed away. I needed to protect my mental health. I did attend her funeral via Skype. A year later I learned on Facebook that my sister had died. A quick, all-encompassing cancer that she chose not to tell me about. I wondered if that was her punishment for my "abandoning" my mother. Or maybe she just thought I wouldn't care. Oops, sorry for this long comment.
Much of this story resonates; my mother is much the same, though I didn't realize it until a few years ago while I was going through counseling for anxiety, and - perhaps inevitably - the conversation turned to my childhood.
My therapist, after I made the same tired excuse for my mother that I've been making all my life, looked at me and said
"Neglect is abuse too, you know."
I'm still here - my life has been full of false starts, unfulfilled promise, and self-sabotaging tendencies - in her house and her life, struggling to escape what feels like a whirlpool; but the pull is lighter every day, and I look forward to when I can finally get free and cut all ties, myself.
I used to look at it as meeting demons in the street. My mother wasn’t a demon but the effects were demonic. At first. I’d buddy up to the demons, try to be friends,
maybe try to bring them home. Then I’d cross the street when I saw them. And then? I wouldn’t even let them on the porch. You’re on your way.
When my mother died ten years ago didn’t know whether I’d go strange for a bit. I let my husband and son know, and asked them to tell when I was being unreasonable.
I’d seen so many people— including my mother— wild out around the deaths of parents with whom their relationships were fraught and especially when the relationships were unresolved.
I had divorced my mother twenty years earlier and it was just a release and a relief. I didn’t think I’d go screwy. But I didn’t know.
I turned out not to be shaken up, happily. It sounds as if you’re having the same experience. I think that’s a hurray, if it’s true. If you find it doesn’t stick, please be gentle to yourself.
My condolences on the complicated task of dealing with the death of an abusive parent. Also, my congratulations on overcoming whatever scars that remain to then openly identify abuses of power and educate others on combating these abuses by politicians and corporations. Your mother might not have been proud, but she should have been.
Despite the wounds, you’ve gone on to be a great mom and grandmother. Maybe it’s from our deepest pain that comes our capability for love and empathy. It’s our way of healing and building something beautiful. Thank you for this story.
The best choice isn’t always the easiest one. We don’t get to choose our parents but we do get to choose what we hold on to and what we let go. Sounds like you realized that a long time ago and made the choice you needed to make. Good, if difficult, for you.
"I am sorry for your loss" is my go-to when I learn of a death of someone who mattered to someone else. I offer that to you, but I am not talking about your mother's death. Your life story is inspiring because you forcefully demonstrate by that life that rearing does not have to be destiny. But it is a LOT of work--a lifetime of work. And you have done that work and are an inspiration to all of us who have had similar upbringing and fraught relationships with parents and siblings as a result. Onward!
Sometime I hope we get a chance to share some stories…I know we have mutual friends here in SWMO and have some common heritage in COC and its traditions—perhaps traumas included. Sharing your post with a group focused on trauma…very powerful writing, Susan. I am so sorry about all that has happened to you and your family. Glad you are there for your siblings. ❤️❤️❤️
I believe you are right. God will sort it out. To use Sharyn P’s phrase (TY Sharyn) a fellow traveler here. I confronted both my abusive parents at age 16 while continuing to try my best to protect my 3 younger sisters. It’s a helluva rough ride. My best therapist said, “It’s not your job to forgive. That’s God’s job. Your parents must ask God. It was such a relief as I thought if I forgave them I condoned their two decades + of abuse. Not doing that.
Sending hugs and hearts to you and your family. You continue to be my inspiration to not tolerate bullies and bullying where ever in life I encounter them. Political and otherwise.
It’s so complicated when those who are supposed to love us hurt us for years. A fellow traveler here, holding you and your siblings in my heart as you navigate this transition. Much love and prayers that God or whatever divine spirit you might perceive is, indeed, sorting it all out. ❤️
Thank you for sharing so beautifully. It is never easy to articulate these feelings and memories. And especially when, perhaps some time after manifesting the person of balance and deploying one's writerly skills and accepting whatever grace inspires us in the moment to bear it, the need to scream is pushing to get out.
You are an example to us all.
Sending hope and courage and, in time, peace of mind.
I’ve always thought that when parents and children are estranged, illness or pending death for either would bring them together, out of guilt or duty. I’m so sorry that didn’t happen for you but you’re right….God will sort it out. I can only hope that you have peace now and have one or two good memories of your Mom.
Oh, Susan. Mother wounds run so deep; they cut right to the bone, and sometimes, we must learn to love someone from a good distance, and with sure boundaries.
You have written a real and honest piece, it made me nod and sigh. Thank you for sharing this with us all. Peace to you. Healing, too.
Mother wounds. Exactly.
I guess this means it was 35-ish years ago when I read your (Pulitzer) piece about that abuse. I was working with sexual abuse survivors at the time. And I was wowed by your writing and can still quote a few of your sentences. It had enormous impact. Thank you for opening up the conversation for so many people. I’m sorry you were hurt. I’m glad you made changes that saved your life. And I honor the way you have used it to enrich our community.
Thank you. That particular piece didn’t win a Pulitzer but it was so good to get it off my chest. I realized after it ran that we? Are everywhere.
Where could I read that piece?
I don’t think it’s online. It was in the old Northeast Magazine.
Probably not on line then. But I’ll have a look anyway. Thanks.
I don’t remember the headline precisely but it had “day in the woods” in it, if that helps.
I'm sorry. Even when we adapt and grow around those wounds, they remain at some level. I had a similar split, though there were off-and-on periods of contact. I lived far away, and as she was declining and then dying, I made the choice not to go. The difficulties fell to my brother and sister, who lived nearby. We'd had little relationship ever because they were a lot older, and my sister was off into her religious world and my brother is a steadfast right-wing racist. I decided I would accept their anger and low opinion of me and any sense of shame that might come from anyone knowing I had stayed away. I needed to protect my mental health. I did attend her funeral via Skype. A year later I learned on Facebook that my sister had died. A quick, all-encompassing cancer that she chose not to tell me about. I wondered if that was her punishment for my "abandoning" my mother. Or maybe she just thought I wouldn't care. Oops, sorry for this long comment.
You did what was best for you. Good for you! No shame in making a well thought out decision.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Much of this story resonates; my mother is much the same, though I didn't realize it until a few years ago while I was going through counseling for anxiety, and - perhaps inevitably - the conversation turned to my childhood.
My therapist, after I made the same tired excuse for my mother that I've been making all my life, looked at me and said
"Neglect is abuse too, you know."
I'm still here - my life has been full of false starts, unfulfilled promise, and self-sabotaging tendencies - in her house and her life, struggling to escape what feels like a whirlpool; but the pull is lighter every day, and I look forward to when I can finally get free and cut all ties, myself.
I used to look at it as meeting demons in the street. My mother wasn’t a demon but the effects were demonic. At first. I’d buddy up to the demons, try to be friends,
maybe try to bring them home. Then I’d cross the street when I saw them. And then? I wouldn’t even let them on the porch. You’re on your way.
Feeling you from here.
Well done, all counts.
When my mother died ten years ago didn’t know whether I’d go strange for a bit. I let my husband and son know, and asked them to tell when I was being unreasonable.
I’d seen so many people— including my mother— wild out around the deaths of parents with whom their relationships were fraught and especially when the relationships were unresolved.
I had divorced my mother twenty years earlier and it was just a release and a relief. I didn’t think I’d go screwy. But I didn’t know.
I turned out not to be shaken up, happily. It sounds as if you’re having the same experience. I think that’s a hurray, if it’s true. If you find it doesn’t stick, please be gentle to yourself.
I love and admire you, and I’m glad you escaped.
I love and admire you. This is mostly…weird. And weird won’t kill me.
I suspect that being there and also at a particular sort of distance makes it weird. I didn’t do that. Thinking about you.
My condolences on the complicated task of dealing with the death of an abusive parent. Also, my congratulations on overcoming whatever scars that remain to then openly identify abuses of power and educate others on combating these abuses by politicians and corporations. Your mother might not have been proud, but she should have been.
Thank you. There is always a connection from childhood to here. I will always despise bullies.
Despite the wounds, you’ve gone on to be a great mom and grandmother. Maybe it’s from our deepest pain that comes our capability for love and empathy. It’s our way of healing and building something beautiful. Thank you for this story.
I love you, Shana Maidel.
The best choice isn’t always the easiest one. We don’t get to choose our parents but we do get to choose what we hold on to and what we let go. Sounds like you realized that a long time ago and made the choice you needed to make. Good, if difficult, for you.
Brave writing from a brave woman living a brave life. Peace.
Aw, thank you.
"I am sorry for your loss" is my go-to when I learn of a death of someone who mattered to someone else. I offer that to you, but I am not talking about your mother's death. Your life story is inspiring because you forcefully demonstrate by that life that rearing does not have to be destiny. But it is a LOT of work--a lifetime of work. And you have done that work and are an inspiration to all of us who have had similar upbringing and fraught relationships with parents and siblings as a result. Onward!
Well, this makes me sound more pulled-together than I actually am but I appreciate this and I appreciate you. Thank you.
I think "cobbled together" might express it better--and you are very well, I think.
Sometime I hope we get a chance to share some stories…I know we have mutual friends here in SWMO and have some common heritage in COC and its traditions—perhaps traumas included. Sharing your post with a group focused on trauma…very powerful writing, Susan. I am so sorry about all that has happened to you and your family. Glad you are there for your siblings. ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you. I am lucky to be here and please hold my brothers and sister in your heart.
I believe you are right. God will sort it out. To use Sharyn P’s phrase (TY Sharyn) a fellow traveler here. I confronted both my abusive parents at age 16 while continuing to try my best to protect my 3 younger sisters. It’s a helluva rough ride. My best therapist said, “It’s not your job to forgive. That’s God’s job. Your parents must ask God. It was such a relief as I thought if I forgave them I condoned their two decades + of abuse. Not doing that.
Sending hugs and hearts to you and your family. You continue to be my inspiration to not tolerate bullies and bullying where ever in life I encounter them. Political and otherwise.
It’s so complicated when those who are supposed to love us hurt us for years. A fellow traveler here, holding you and your siblings in my heart as you navigate this transition. Much love and prayers that God or whatever divine spirit you might perceive is, indeed, sorting it all out. ❤️
Hugs back to you.
Thank you for sharing so beautifully. It is never easy to articulate these feelings and memories. And especially when, perhaps some time after manifesting the person of balance and deploying one's writerly skills and accepting whatever grace inspires us in the moment to bear it, the need to scream is pushing to get out.
You are an example to us all.
Sending hope and courage and, in time, peace of mind.
Thank you. You're very kind to have read it.
Profound! As the oldest of 3 I am estranged from my brother. Your story resonates with me on multiple levels. Thank you for sharing.
Hang in there, Bro. Rich. If your life is better without him in it, then you are absolutely doing the right thing.
I’ve always thought that when parents and children are estranged, illness or pending death for either would bring them together, out of guilt or duty. I’m so sorry that didn’t happen for you but you’re right….God will sort it out. I can only hope that you have peace now and have one or two good memories of your Mom.
I have several and am out here in New Mexico talking about that with my brother.
That’s wonderful.
Your mother reminded me of my ex
The family suffered from Stockholm syndrome because of the constant chaos
Just before the end of our marriage she insisted that we had to go to counseling
I was begging her for a number of years to go
The few times that she relented ended with her declaring that she could do it on her own
She was incapable of ever admitting to the bad parenting she constantly displayed
She had no problem body shaming her own daughters
She turned a blind eye to her drug and alcohol addiction
And she lied
And she dragged the kids into her lies
After my daughter moved out of the house she didn’t talk to her mother until she was on her deathbed
It’s taken a number of years but I think my stepdaughter has become aware of her mother’s faults
But she was actually a product of her upbringing
She would bad mouth her mother but then do the same things
We have a lot of broken families in this country
And many are unaware of that
This is all true. We carry that baggage until we figure out how to set it down.