Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Stroke
This is going to be disjointed, weird, goofy and probably irritating, but it just has to be written.
I have a very complicated family history. We have the usual misunderstandings, grudges, fueds, jealousies fights, quarrels and assorted mayhem. There are multiple marriages, divorces, deaths, affairs, betrayals, blended families, more death, more divorce, estrangements, drama, drama, drama and more. We even managed to get the courts involved on occasion. Just your typical American, dysfunctional family. You know, I've always wondered when people use that term, dysfunctional, because I've yet to meet anyone from a non-dysfunctional family. I suppose that "they" are out there somewhere, but I've never come across one. Even in the best of family situations, I don't suppose that it is ever possible to be everything to everyone and make sure that each person has their basic family needs met, much less those things that our hearts most desire.
We, somehow, managed to have some of the good things about families, too. We mostly love each other We keep reasonable contact; enough so that we're fairly up-to-date about each other's lives, but not so much that we drive one another crazy. That's my mother's job. In fact, that is one of the things that brings us siblings together and keeps us there...our mutual dislike and mistrust of our mother. We don't hate her, well, at least some of us don't right now, but there isn't much love going in either direction where she is concerned. And, she, our mother, doesn't discriminate among her progeny. She is never so happy as when she is causing discomfort, disharmony, discontent and outright pain amongst all of us, children, grandchildren, even her own siblings. One of her best techniques in controlling everthing and everyone was to keep all of us in a continual state of fear and mistrust of one another. Conquer and divide. It is still her favourite tool.
Through the years, we have come to our own terms with her and her behavior. Like anything else, our relationships with her are dynamic, and move, flow to the patterns they must take. We are all, always I hope, just trying to do our best, and honestly, after all these decades, I guess that she is as well.
Her behavior. Well, she comes by it honestly, if such a thing can be. She was mistreated, misused and abused by her family. Sadly, like many injured children, she grew up to carry on her family's legacy of neglect, mistreatment, misuse, shame and abuse of her own children. It was a time when family secrets were well kept, during both her formative years and adulthood. She came from a large family, and had one of her own. As far as I can determine, none of her siblings abused their own children, although one can see other family issues that manifested from those childhoods. As far as I know, only one of my siblings was abusive to their children, a fact that I learned many years later. But, you never know, especially in a family like ours where secrets were the only covenant that was kept and held sacred.
We are scattered all over the country, those so bestowed children of hers, but try, really try to keep in touch and to avoid taking the umbrage in which we were well schooled.
It has been, and continues to be a long and arduous journey, which brings us to the present.
Until a year ago, my mother lived on my side of the country. For reasons best left unadressed, she was moved to the other side of the country by one of my sibs. To be ruefully honest, I was happy to see her go, but sad to know that the sibs that moved her were finally going to experience and understand how difficult it was to have to deal with her on a daily basis. Sadly, that happened, but that's another hundred stories. Last month she had a stroke. For all of the above mentioned reasons, no one in her area wanted much to do with taking care of her affairs; another area best left unadressed, but truth be told, you reap what you sow, and the only person who deserves any lifting of a critical eye is my mother.
Stokes are not cool. Not even a little bit. Even I know that. However.
Well, however, a lot of good has come from this particular stroke. It has brought us sibs, at least the more highly evolved of us (how's that for making judgements), closer together. I had some money saved and am using it to fly over there as often as I can get away from work. I went at the beginning of this month, and will return next month. Our mother really lucked-out and has been in some reasonably decent, as those places go, facilities, with some reasonably caring people. She is making progress and will keep moving on to other facilities as she improves. Which brings me to another benefit of her stroke. She seems to have become a nicer person. We would like to hope that it is a conscious, internal effort on her part, driven by her near-death, but we suspect that it is a factor of the neurological difficulties caused by the stroke. Although, really, who cares. She is easier to be around and that is enough for now.
For the time being, at least, she is no longer the source of so much stress, work and pain to my sibs. It is my most ardent hope that we can continue to become closer and less fractious with one another. I might also hope that there will be time before she eventually dies for some of us to come to some kind of resolution with her, some opportunity to talk to her and address those past issues.
I suspect that such conversations would only be a further cruelty to her, after a life overflowing with the cruelties that she has had to experience and for which she was forced to keep her own counsel. I feel such sadness and pain for what she suffered as a child. It's a different world now, with social services and mandatory reporters that did not exist when she was little, or even when I was a frightened, hurting child.
Perhaps the kindest and most loving legacy that I can offer her is to forgive her in my own, quiet way, without causing her more pain. I think that all of us have suffered enough.
And, truly, it is enough for now.
I have a very complicated family history. We have the usual misunderstandings, grudges, fueds, jealousies fights, quarrels and assorted mayhem. There are multiple marriages, divorces, deaths, affairs, betrayals, blended families, more death, more divorce, estrangements, drama, drama, drama and more. We even managed to get the courts involved on occasion. Just your typical American, dysfunctional family. You know, I've always wondered when people use that term, dysfunctional, because I've yet to meet anyone from a non-dysfunctional family. I suppose that "they" are out there somewhere, but I've never come across one. Even in the best of family situations, I don't suppose that it is ever possible to be everything to everyone and make sure that each person has their basic family needs met, much less those things that our hearts most desire.
We, somehow, managed to have some of the good things about families, too. We mostly love each other We keep reasonable contact; enough so that we're fairly up-to-date about each other's lives, but not so much that we drive one another crazy. That's my mother's job. In fact, that is one of the things that brings us siblings together and keeps us there...our mutual dislike and mistrust of our mother. We don't hate her, well, at least some of us don't right now, but there isn't much love going in either direction where she is concerned. And, she, our mother, doesn't discriminate among her progeny. She is never so happy as when she is causing discomfort, disharmony, discontent and outright pain amongst all of us, children, grandchildren, even her own siblings. One of her best techniques in controlling everthing and everyone was to keep all of us in a continual state of fear and mistrust of one another. Conquer and divide. It is still her favourite tool.
Through the years, we have come to our own terms with her and her behavior. Like anything else, our relationships with her are dynamic, and move, flow to the patterns they must take. We are all, always I hope, just trying to do our best, and honestly, after all these decades, I guess that she is as well.
Her behavior. Well, she comes by it honestly, if such a thing can be. She was mistreated, misused and abused by her family. Sadly, like many injured children, she grew up to carry on her family's legacy of neglect, mistreatment, misuse, shame and abuse of her own children. It was a time when family secrets were well kept, during both her formative years and adulthood. She came from a large family, and had one of her own. As far as I can determine, none of her siblings abused their own children, although one can see other family issues that manifested from those childhoods. As far as I know, only one of my siblings was abusive to their children, a fact that I learned many years later. But, you never know, especially in a family like ours where secrets were the only covenant that was kept and held sacred.
We are scattered all over the country, those so bestowed children of hers, but try, really try to keep in touch and to avoid taking the umbrage in which we were well schooled.
It has been, and continues to be a long and arduous journey, which brings us to the present.
Until a year ago, my mother lived on my side of the country. For reasons best left unadressed, she was moved to the other side of the country by one of my sibs. To be ruefully honest, I was happy to see her go, but sad to know that the sibs that moved her were finally going to experience and understand how difficult it was to have to deal with her on a daily basis. Sadly, that happened, but that's another hundred stories. Last month she had a stroke. For all of the above mentioned reasons, no one in her area wanted much to do with taking care of her affairs; another area best left unadressed, but truth be told, you reap what you sow, and the only person who deserves any lifting of a critical eye is my mother.
Stokes are not cool. Not even a little bit. Even I know that. However.
Well, however, a lot of good has come from this particular stroke. It has brought us sibs, at least the more highly evolved of us (how's that for making judgements), closer together. I had some money saved and am using it to fly over there as often as I can get away from work. I went at the beginning of this month, and will return next month. Our mother really lucked-out and has been in some reasonably decent, as those places go, facilities, with some reasonably caring people. She is making progress and will keep moving on to other facilities as she improves. Which brings me to another benefit of her stroke. She seems to have become a nicer person. We would like to hope that it is a conscious, internal effort on her part, driven by her near-death, but we suspect that it is a factor of the neurological difficulties caused by the stroke. Although, really, who cares. She is easier to be around and that is enough for now.
For the time being, at least, she is no longer the source of so much stress, work and pain to my sibs. It is my most ardent hope that we can continue to become closer and less fractious with one another. I might also hope that there will be time before she eventually dies for some of us to come to some kind of resolution with her, some opportunity to talk to her and address those past issues.
I suspect that such conversations would only be a further cruelty to her, after a life overflowing with the cruelties that she has had to experience and for which she was forced to keep her own counsel. I feel such sadness and pain for what she suffered as a child. It's a different world now, with social services and mandatory reporters that did not exist when she was little, or even when I was a frightened, hurting child.
Perhaps the kindest and most loving legacy that I can offer her is to forgive her in my own, quiet way, without causing her more pain. I think that all of us have suffered enough.
And, truly, it is enough for now.
// posted by MoonGoddess @ 12:38 PM 
