I moved overseas, I had to have distance of time and space and culture between myself and my second generation alcoholic mother. I was the scapegoat in our family and I recognise the feeling of shame and a defectiveness projected on me by society’s myths around family. Last week I received a letter from a lawyer with two forms to settle my mother’s legacy and that of my father. She passed in 1999 and dad in May 22. 40 years of distance and I was thrown on my knees in a day. Nobody bothered to contact me, but my remaining siblings suddenly need my help to settle the inheritance. I recall how hostile they were to me.
So I googled. As you do - death of an estranged parent. And I found this wonderfully authentic and honest post and it helped. What I’m feeling is powerful, I just needed a vocabulary to name it. And in a way it’s healing, more than years of therapy. I lifted myself out of generational patterns, but I mourn the loss of what could have been. I was extremely touched by Jan’s comment and it was very helpful. Thank you both and all the other commenters for providing some peace and solace to another abandoned child.
Our parents are our parents, it doesn't matter how much time goes by. We have complicated emotions around our parents that are present - so much more so around those that are not. Your response to him at age 23 was wonderful - a truly adult response which liberated you. And, the child in you (the child in each of us) never goes away. Which is a good thing on many levels but when it comes to pain, hurt, and grief, it can be confusing and complicated.
Your story brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.
I guess as a personal side note, I will say this: my father was the son of an alcoholic and, while he himself was not one and, in fact, lifted himself out of poverty and became highly educated, he did, in a different way, perpetuate abuse. Or maybe what he did was a sickness - I'm not sure, and I don't know if I will ever understand. He died when I was 24 and it was at least another 20 years before I could separate myself enough from him to begin to talk about the bad things he did, things I am still not ready to put to print. Our parents are our first home and what we experience as children really does affect us our entire lives. The more we are able to unpack these experiences, the better our future can be, and the better we can be for everyone else. Writing your story, as you indicate, serves not only you but so many others. Me included. Thank you.
Powerful and beautiful in its authenticity and vulnerability. Thank you for sharing your heart. I believe the ability to hold many emotions at the same time frees us to find peace. I was never able to have children and the complex emotions of that journey are at times contradictory and sometimes illogical. Navigating those different paths at the same time is something else!
I think you were so brave to set those boundaries with your dad, as compassion must include oneself. Again, thank you for sharing.
I moved overseas, I had to have distance of time and space and culture between myself and my second generation alcoholic mother. I was the scapegoat in our family and I recognise the feeling of shame and a defectiveness projected on me by society’s myths around family. Last week I received a letter from a lawyer with two forms to settle my mother’s legacy and that of my father. She passed in 1999 and dad in May 22. 40 years of distance and I was thrown on my knees in a day. Nobody bothered to contact me, but my remaining siblings suddenly need my help to settle the inheritance. I recall how hostile they were to me.
So I googled. As you do - death of an estranged parent. And I found this wonderfully authentic and honest post and it helped. What I’m feeling is powerful, I just needed a vocabulary to name it. And in a way it’s healing, more than years of therapy. I lifted myself out of generational patterns, but I mourn the loss of what could have been. I was extremely touched by Jan’s comment and it was very helpful. Thank you both and all the other commenters for providing some peace and solace to another abandoned child.
Our parents are our parents, it doesn't matter how much time goes by. We have complicated emotions around our parents that are present - so much more so around those that are not. Your response to him at age 23 was wonderful - a truly adult response which liberated you. And, the child in you (the child in each of us) never goes away. Which is a good thing on many levels but when it comes to pain, hurt, and grief, it can be confusing and complicated.
Your story brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.
I guess as a personal side note, I will say this: my father was the son of an alcoholic and, while he himself was not one and, in fact, lifted himself out of poverty and became highly educated, he did, in a different way, perpetuate abuse. Or maybe what he did was a sickness - I'm not sure, and I don't know if I will ever understand. He died when I was 24 and it was at least another 20 years before I could separate myself enough from him to begin to talk about the bad things he did, things I am still not ready to put to print. Our parents are our first home and what we experience as children really does affect us our entire lives. The more we are able to unpack these experiences, the better our future can be, and the better we can be for everyone else. Writing your story, as you indicate, serves not only you but so many others. Me included. Thank you.
Powerful and beautiful in its authenticity and vulnerability. Thank you for sharing your heart. I believe the ability to hold many emotions at the same time frees us to find peace. I was never able to have children and the complex emotions of that journey are at times contradictory and sometimes illogical. Navigating those different paths at the same time is something else!
I think you were so brave to set those boundaries with your dad, as compassion must include oneself. Again, thank you for sharing.