How joyous to have broken out of the clouds, into the endless sky & sun. Hey, only took over half a century!
Could look at it as "I spent 50+ years absorbed in resolving the unresoivable?!" ~or~ "Good for me, that I kept at it long enough to get clear & shake myself free." Definitely going with the latter!!!
The task I set out for myself - a family with what I considered healthier communication patterns - was just not going to fly with my surviving parent & sibs. Took me decades to realize it wasn't a matter of they wouldn't, but they couldn't. How they communicated was just fine with them; how I did it was NOT.
At last month's Creative Aging conference, one of the speakers used the term "sky above clouds" to describe aspects of dementia. the painting which inspired her inspires me, too - in a different way. in my current life, can look down at the clouds that once obscured my vision & see their beauty, possible now that I am above them. I can look around & see the beautiful sky, the sun, the endless horizons stretching before me.
For years, I was heartbroken that my parents always seemed to see Mim's side of things. An older friend - one of my oldest brother's classmates - would say, "She's being a mother." I never got that, because, hey - she was MY mother, too. Finally, I asked what she meant, because I was clueless (never been a mom). She explained that parents tend to give extra support to the kids they see need it, which can leave others that don't feeling ignored. That made very bitter, not too sweet sense.
I have always been a lot tougher, way more resilient that I gave myself credit for being. And tenacious, one of the core qualities that drove my family bonkers.
What was missing all those years was the ability to see & honor each member of the family & the family as a whole, as they & it truly were. Maybe not to like, but to respect.
The hard reality is that it wasn't possible, not as long as Mom was alive. Because if I had been able to do that, it would have meant making changes that were not acceptable, not to her, not to them, not to me. It would have meant Mom having to move down to Australia to live with Mike & Kerry, which seemed like a fine solution to me, but was absolutely NOT for her (for good reasons, which she sadly did not share at the time).
So thankful I don't have to dither over the great "what ifs" - - wasn't the right time. It's that simple. Maybe it always is.
Such goosebumps, thinking about how things have worked out in their own good time. Will probably write quite a few postings on that amazing fact - everything has worked out fabulously. It took an remarkably long time, but time is illusion.
For countless thousands of years, humans dreamed of what it would be like to soar above the clouds, to experience seeing what was below & above. That only happened in the last century. Some things take a long time & a lot of effort to happen. We needed more than the dream. We need the right knowledge, the right engine, the right boost of power & guidance to send us up up up to the sky above the clouds.
My oldest brother is someone who's always expected perfection, from himself & others. In his sixties, he mused about what our parents might have done that resulted in such an over-demanding expection, or perhaps it was a teacher he trusted & let him down.
"Why, you were that way since birth," I responded.
He was not amused. Especially being fourteen years my elder, so how would I know what he was like as a babe? He expressed just that - what an absurd thing for me to say.
"Oh, I've always known that," was my explanation. "One of Mom's favorite tales to tell was of your first words."
"Well, I don't see any connection," Peter snipped.
Mom was worried about Peter, her first born. He was almost three & still hadn't spoken a word. This was back in the 1930s, before talk about childhood development & proper states of growth, but he was old enough for her to be concerned. She was considering taking him to the pediatrician when IT finally happened - he spoke!
The two of them were in the apartment at the top of the Alden house at Alden Road & Cherry Lane (now John & Lori's). Off in the distance, a train's steam whistle (pre-diesel & electric) sounded at a crossing.
Peter, who was near a window, looked out & then back at his mother, then perfectly enuciated his first words - 'Fox Chase."
Not a peep, and then "Fox Chase," one of the stops on the Newtown-Philadelphia Line.
Yeah, I'd say perfection (and quite a bit of showmanship) was in my bro since birth.
"There's a letter from Mim," John said yesterday, as he came in with the mail.
It gave me a moment's pause, listening to the tone & timber of his words. They made me smile, even before I opened the note, a card featuring a great photo of a squirrel. John's few words were filled with happiness & anticipation of my response.
How lovely to have a relationship with my sister. Doesn't matter whether it is grounded in shared confidences & long gabby visits ~or~ based on the occasional note or letter back & forth - relationships are what they are. That is, as I see it, their great value. When we wish they were more or make ourselves think they are different than they appear - that isn't respectful of what is.
I loved the card, the "Happy Summer!" message, and the sharing of a distance, sweet memory. What to send in return?
A few years before Mom was reunited with her O! Best Beloved, a close friend - who lives a distance away - called her up. The computer studio was right next to Mom's bedroom, so I heard the entire side of Mom's conversation, which went started with a cheery greeting & quickly sequed into dark-toned "Um...," "I see...," & "Really..?"
When the conversation finally closed & Mom came into the studio, I asked, "What was that all about?"
"Oh, my" Mom said, "My dear friend has a terrible daughter-in-law."
"Really? But she was so excited when they were married a couple months ago."
Mom went on, sharing with me all the girl's awful traits & all the terrible things she had done to distress her mother-in-law. Well, at least as they had been described by her friend.
After hearing the litany, I commented, "It would be wise to remember that you only have your friend's opinion to go on. You don't know the young woman. And you do know how fiercely - sometimes incorrectly - judgmental your friend has been in the past."
"That's what I was thinking," Mom replied. "Which was why I didn't agree with her."
"But you did," I answered.
"NO! I didn't agree, not once!"
"Mom, I heard you - your replies were all 'ums' & 'really!' & 'I see.' Not once did you question what was being said. She got what she called you for - validation of her point of view. Maybe the girl IS as awful as she makes out, but you don't know that."
Mom was horrified, realizing the truth of what I said. She'd totally underscored for the friend the rightness of trashing the young woman.
The sad scenario opened up an interesting conversation between mother & daughter. We talked about how dicey it can be when friends or family dump on someone & we make their opinion ours. I've certainly had this happen, so had Mom. We'd get all hot & bothered over the scathing opinion someone else had of a 3rd party. Although totally unfounded, we made it OURS.
Here's the problem with that scenario - when the friend's opinion changes, as it often does (and, in this case, did), they move on with a better healthier happier relationship & YOU"RE stuck with the bad feeling & negative vibes.
It wasn't easy, but Mom did touch base back with her friend & asked some questions about the woman's d-i-l. Turned out her grievances were typical in-law stuff. Mom shared her own experiences with Pam & Kerry, which surprised the friend since she knew how close Mom was to her sons' wives, something she'd been comparing her experience against. They talked about the dynamics of someone first coming into an established relationship like a family - the impact on individuals & on the whole is always a bit ... awkward. I like to think the conversation helped the friend.
It sure brought home to me the importance of not embracing someone else's opinion of folks you don't know, even though it might feel weirdly good at the time & waaaay easier than asking for more details to help you fill in a bigger picture. Jump right in & wholeheartedly agree, making someone else's negative feelings your own, if the situation changes & they build a caring relationship, you'll be the one stuck out in the cold with the uglies!
Guess I was in my early 40s when Mim - then around 50 - said to me, "I bet you think that I talk about you all the time to my psychologist. Well, I don't, not ever."
That was an important statement, on several levels. First off, it seemed weird to me that she felt compelled to make it at all. Second, it interested me that she assumed I thought that MY issues were HER issues. Third, she was totally wrong - it never occurred to me that she was talking about healing family issues during her sessions.
What still, to this day, gives pause is WHY would she bring it up in the first place? Imagine if I had thought that she invested as much worth in our relationship as I did - hearing that she never sought ways to improve it would have devastated me. That still leaves me scratching my head.
My first phrasing was "she never sought ways to improve heal restore our relationship." The harsh reality, one that folks who knew us years & years ago find hard to accept, is that you can't heal & restore something that never existed.
Took me DECADES to figure that one out, a realization that possibly didn't fully hit until after Mom was reunited with her O! Best Beloved. Nothing expresses better than Mim's own words that while there was a relationship in my heart, apparently there wasn't in hers. That used to dominate my life; now, it is what is. What's not okay is pretending something exists when it doesn't.
There are so many wonderful things gleaned from our times together. So much of who I am is due to Mim's influence. And, right here, right now, I thank her for all those gifts. Especially that potentially stinging statement
On Monday, I have my first appointment with the amazing Kim Vargas. Kim is best known for helping coach women into motherhood, perhaps life's greatest, most challenging transition. I have seen the awesome work she's done with a grannie client, helping her transition from older to elder. And I look forward to her helping me transition into .. whatever lies before me.
And I can absolutely, positively guarantee you one thing above all others ~ ~ I won't be talking about my sister or ancient family issues.
I wasn't hurt that Mim didn't frultlessly fixate on family issues like I did. If anything, I envied her detachment from unsolvable gunk. Now, it's my time. At last!
Monday is my first appointment with the amazing Kim Vargas. Kim is a counselor who is best known for helping women transition into motherhood. I look forward to her helping me transition fully into a present moment - rather than a past rooted - life. Am proud of all I've accomplished so far on my own, but the rest of the way calls for expert help.
The great gift of writing this particular blog is being able to recast ancient gunk into present day insight or even lessons. For that, I offer up thanks to the Internet for providing such an incredible space to do such invaluable inner work.
It is sobering to realize how many years ticked by before it finally hit me that my life isn't that different from most folks'. How weirdly comforting it was to think of myself as vastly different from the rest, how stable THEIR lives were compared to mine. By casting myself as uniquely challenged, I also made it okay to not make much progress - my situation was SO much worse than anyone else's, it defied change.
At 62, I can totally shout from the rooftops - LIFE IS GOOD!!!! Challenging, yes. Long arduous roads ahead to get where I want to be - yes. Soul wrenching as I work to overhaul unproductive lifelong patterns - yes. But so very very very good. I owe it all - every bit of it - to everything & everyone who came before. And that is no secret!
Three cheers on this 4th of July for being free to celebrate in our own style. For the 1st time, with a fully vegan spread!! No more eggs or milk for moi. Almost a year after being instructed by Dr. Lehman to not eat "anything that had a face or a mother," am no longer simply vegan-ish.
Garden burgers with slices of onion & tomato; vegetarian baked beans; utterly YUM homemade potato salad with grated onion & chopped celery veganaisse; sunflower seeds & raisins as garnishes.
All served on the back porch, which John has cleared off & looking fine. Watching the last two episodes of Monk on our itty bitty dvd player!
We'll be home as comfort for any cat who wants to seek shelter under our legs during the BOOM! BOOMS!
Right where the two of us are happiest on the 4th.
Only took me 25 years to be fully okay with not thinking the "right" place to celebrate the 4th was at the Bryn Athyn picnic. Confession - I remember being relieved when I got sick on the 4th back in 1959 & we came home early from the picnic. Good thing we did, since it turned out Weitzel Lumber was burning to the ground & Dad was the only person with any authority who wasn't out of town & he wouldn't have heard about it if they hadn't been talking about it during the Phillies game on the radio. But the fact is that I would, even back then, preferred being home on the 4th.
Not true when we had guests. The 4th was our happiest family holiday. I remember Whitney at the swimming pool when she was just a baby (Peter was incensed they wouldn't let her swim with Pam in the main pool - "she wouldn't have an accident"), Reynolds riding his decorated trike in the parade (and the great pic Mom snapped of him amidst her red, white & blue peonies), Scott celebrating with us when he was in B.A., the special times with the Zeigler kids when they stayed with us before & after ANC summer camp. All the times before, when Mom would make her awesome picnics & we'd set up, as a family, under the canopy of shade trees that lined the old football field (now that Morna has gone will they name it "Hyatt Field"?). Watching fireworks set off from the bottom of Church Hill, people scattered all over the top. The Bryn Athyn Hill William Band, the March of Dimes, my "Let Freedom Ring" decorated bike, dressed in a hula skirt & carrying a "Me too Uncle" sign.
I have a treasure house of fabulous 4th of July memories. Years & years & years of stress-free family celebrations that are held inviolate in my heart. And years & years & years of stress-free celebrations ahead of the two of us, honoring the high ideals stated in the Declaration of Independence by partying in our own unique style.
Let freedom ring across the land!
