Mom managed to leave 8 children with various opinions of her parenting, mostly negative, behind. Each one of us carries far more memories of bad times than glad times. I thought I was receiving the short-end of the stick because I was the youngest and Mom was burned out by the time I came along. What I didn't understand was that she just didn't have it in her.
The way we love and parent has changed over the years, determined in part by societal norms. We live in a time of stark contrasts between excess and want. It's difficult to navigate individually and challenges me to be mindful of striking a balance between my personal values and cultural attitudes.
My Mother had a rough childhood, spending many of her developing years in a Catholic orphanage. Separated from her two brothers during a time traditionally associated with forming attachments. Mom was aloof, depressed and narcissistic as an adult. Many of my siblings think she suffered from manic-depression, now known as bipolar disorder. Honestly, even with a degree in Psychology, I am not sure. Her behaviors follow the definition of both bipolar and major depression. Either way she was often unable to function and her dysfunction spread through our family over the years.
Not surprisingly, many of us struggle with varying forms of anxiety and bouts of depressive symptoms. Ask most of my siblings and their descriptions of and feelings about Mom are generally unfavorable. Sometimes when I am in the throes of helping my daughter with something I am struck by the fact that I have almost no recollection of my mother doing anything like that.
Mom was stuck in her own head and withdrew from life often. She never told me I was smart, pretty, capable or that she loved me. If she felt slighted, she could be spiteful and lash out, her poison pen letters were notorious and she never apologized. Yet, there was a beautiful mind locked in that torment and on the rare occasion she revealed it. I forgave her a million times as a child hoping for another glimpse of the beauty within. Hoping she would shine her light on me, even for a moment.
When Mom died, that hope died with her. It was for this reason I was sad, so much possibility gone.
The reason I can forgive my Mother for all the many times and ways she hurt me is because she suffered too. Whether she was lashing out or withdrawing because life was more than she could bear, her behavior was never about me. None of it was my doing, I was just along for a very bumpy ride.
It has taken me a long time to fully understand and embrace this but I know it to be true. Much has been written about forgiveness and it is truly important to moving forward. My mother had a sad life, she missed all of the things that family can be. She was angry, frustrated and resentful and I do not wish to continue that legacy. I want to love and be loved, share kindness and compassion and show my child that these are the qualities that are worth cultivating.
There is a wonderful TedX talk by Brene' Brown that I think everyone should see.
The desire to try and selectively numb and the rigid thought patterns really describe so many including myself. Awareness really is the first step. Which reminds me of a funny Mom story that perhaps only children that grow up in a dysfunctional environment would find amusing. Maybe I'll post that one soon.
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