New Beginnings

The same theme reverberates throughout my life.  Whenever I am contemplating a solution for a problem, it is usually an answer that is resolved within me.  When I looked around and observed other people, I noted they had friends for long periods of time.  All my friends eventually left.  Other people seemed to enjoy life and I was miserable and lonely.  I had to ask myself “What is it about me that I do not have the friends in my life I want?”  I didn’t like the answer, but it offered me the solution to my problem.  Then the inner work began.  When I looked around at people who were happy in their life, again I had to look at what I was doing in my life to prevent me from having the life that I wanted.  Again, I didn’t like the answer, but I could choose to remain as I was, or make an effort to be a person who was happy, and attracted people who were happy.  For years I grappled with the question “How do I forgive my mother?”  I persisted in looking to the life my mother led, and standing in judgment of her, despite the fact forgiveness never has anything to do with the person who needs to be forgiven. 

I finally realized I was looking at my mother through the eyes of a child, and I needed to grow up.  I viewed my mother as a superior person to myself, therefor; she was better equipped to protect me than I was to protect my daughters.  I judged her for not being the person I expected her to be.  Not only was that unfair, it was preventing me from moving beyond what my childhood was.  It kept me stuck.  I had to examine the type of adult my childhood trained me to be, and it was not a pretty assessment.  I compared my mother to the adult I became, and I could not find a great deal of difference between the two of us.  If I accepted as truth that I was not to blame for the adult I was raised to be, then my mother deserved no less.  The comparison did not stop there.  When I looked at the options for help afforded to her, they were almost nonexistent.  When I looked at the options available to me, I had a great deal of help and support to change what I was into a person I could be comfortable with.  Without all the help provided to me, I may have been no better a mother than mine was.  Yes, I did the work, and I had the drive and desire to make the best life for my children I could, but I cannot fault my mother for not meeting my expectations.  As broken as my mother is, I am certain I am a grave disappointment to her, and she probably doesn’t understand why I do not have a relationship with her. 

When my mother went into the hospital for an emergency surgery on her thyroid, three of the four of us kids wound up with my father, and my brother Richard somehow landed in the care of a neighbor.  I don’t know how it all came down, but my mother told me once she never forgave me for choosing my father over her.  I don’t remember making any choices at all!  My father took advantage of my mother’s hospitalization to return to court to gain custody of us.  I didn’t even know for a while what was going on.  I didn’t know my mother was in the hospital, my father told me she didn’t want to see us.  Based on how my mother treated me, it sounded reasonable.  She said she never called us or came to pick us up for visits because we chose my father over her.  I can only imagine what she tells herself about why we do not have a relationship.  The fact is, I tried to have a relationship with her on her own merit, and she chose to hang up the phone during a conversation and never call again.  I am sure she has twisted it to be something I did to hurt her.  My mother is a broken, damaged woman.  I could have been my mother, had I not done the work in counseling to become a better person.  My mother did not protect me because she was not capable of protecting me.  My mother’s behavior in our relationship indicates she remained a child in a woman’s body.  I cannot fault her for being who she was.  I may not know the details of her childhood, but I know the details of mine and what it did to me. 

Driving all those miles between Ohio and Arizona, I knew I wanted to leave the ghosts of my past behind me.  I have known for some time I have wanted to forgive my mother, but I didn’t know how to begin.  I was searching for a reason to forgive her, when the reality was I needed no reason at all, other than for myself.  I forgave my mother in a backwards sort of way.  I decided to forgive her, and then thought about why she deserved to be forgiven.  I decided to forgive her unconditionally, and throughout the miles, the reasons she deserved forgiveness were made clear to me.  I guess when you have faith enough to do what is right, then the answers become clear.  In the end, the only reason I couldn’t forgive my mother was the expectations I had of her.  She could not have been a better mother to me than she was.  She didn’t have the tools to do it, and she had no help or support. 

I think of it like a doctor who sets up an office to treat patients, but he never stepped foot in medical school.  It doesn’t matter how much he wants to help people, it doesn’t matter how much he thinks he knows, without the education, he cannot be a good doctor.  My mother entered motherhood just like that doctor.  She did not have the skills, knowledge, education or support in order to be a good mother.  She cannot be faulted for it.  She was a product of her childhood just like I was a product of mine, but I went to parenting school, in a manner of speaking.  There may have been a time my mother wanted to be a good mother, I’ll never know.  There are many things I will never know about my parents, but none of it matters.  The only thing that does matter is now they have both been forgiven.  Whatever judgment their souls will bear is not in my hands, I have released them from being indebted to me. 

I was one of six children by my father, and though I do not know much about my half-sisters or the lives they lived, I do know I am the only one of the four of us to have survived.  I stopped the cycle of abuse from being perpetuated through my line.  If I never did another thing in my life, that single thing alone is significant.  My only regret is that I could not prevent my nieces and nephews from suffering a similar fate.  My brothers allowed my father to spend significant time with their children.  I watched as my father played “pinch butt” with the toddlers, and it sickened me.  There was nothing I could have done, however, because no one would have believed me.  I do not know if my father molested my brothers directly, but I remember my father forcing them to watch while he forced sexual acts upon me.  Like me, they buried those memories so deeply; they emerge only in their behaviors and addictions.  I cannot say any of my brothers are sexual offenders or pedophiles.  I have no contact with them.  I cannot say any of them abuse their children in any form, except two of my brothers addictions have kept them from having a relationship with their children.  I guess the cycle of abuse stopped there, too.  Their children were raised by their mother’s and last I knew; they had little contact with them. 

My brother Kevin, who submerged himself into religion, carried a deep hatred for my mother.  I don’t know if he abused his son or daughter, but I do know my father was a significant presence in their lives.  My father picked them up from school and babysat them frequently.  If my brother did not perpetuate the cycle himself, he did not end it either.  You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge, and I was the only one who saw my father for the monster he was.  Kevin’s hatred for our mother was pervasive, and I can only hope it did not transfer to his wife or his daughter.  I think of my brothers often, though I haven’t forgiven them for hurting me so much during my childhood.  I haven’t forgiven them because to me there was nothing to forgive them for.  Like me, they were children trying to survive their environment.  They acted in a way they were taught to act.  I hope my brothers can find peace. 

So I left my ghosts in Ohio, but it doesn’t mean they won’t come back to haunt me from time to time.  I have released my parents to face the next life free of my burden.  I am free to find out what the next part of my life will be.  There is sadness, because I still want a family.  I want aunts, uncles, cousins and I would like to know my brothers.  But the price is too high.  I made my choices a long time ago.  I have made progress here in my new life, and it will be interesting to see what develops.  I don’t know who I am outside of my girls.  I spent my entire life trying to protect them from the evils in this world.  Years of parenting classes and counseling taught me how to be a mother, but it didn’t teach me how to be an individual.  I have no idea how to live my life for me.  I have defined myself by my roles in life, as a mother, as a nurse, sometimes as a wife, but those are titles, and not who I am.  Arizona is the place, and my journey to discover who I am has just begun.  If my past is any indicator of the future, I am in for quite a ride.