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Tue 6 May, 2003 03:04 pm
A few weeks ago, I picked up a hitchhiker. She was
27, quite likable, and spoke with a slight earthy
accent.
Our discussions quickly centered on our respective
lives, our good fortunes, and the problems we had
encountered in the chaotic paths of our adult lives.
Judy came from a Hungarian family. She was brought
up in a village in France, but lived and worked in
Australia. She had come back to the country for a
short while, because she had to meet her father, who
was critically ill with cancer. "According to the
doctors, it is a matter of a few weeks," she sighed.
Then she added: "It has been 2 years since I last
saw him, but I am only going to stay for 3 days. I
left him in a fit of anger, but that is an old story.
Tomorrow, I have to go to the hospital.
I am anxious. I have so many things to tell him that
I do not know how to begin. I know that he would not
complain. It sounds crazy, but I get the impression
that it is I who am sick."
Her last words had the effect of a blow to my heart.
I was thoughtful for a moment and then I told her:
"A few years ago, I was turning 30. I had left home
long before, and I had certain problems with my father that
were far from being resolved. He had never paid any
attention to me during my youth, and even if I loved
him, I found it hard to forgive him. Then one morning,
I got the message that he had been through surgery and
was very sick.
I went to the hospital to see him. There, I finally
found the courage to tell him all the things that had
caused me to be angry for so long.
He only had the strength to listen to me, to grasp
my hand and to smile. He would pass away the next day,
but in that moment something wonderful had been
accomplished.
All of the anger I had harbored fell
away and was replaced by feelings of genuine love for
my father. We had been reconciled to each other. I
know that he passed away with a peaceful heart, and
thenceforth I live more serenely."
It was obvious that Judy understood, because before
getting out of the car to catch her train she looked
at me and with a strange smile said:
"You know, it is bizarre, but whatever our age, at
some stage, we come back to our parents like a dog
tied to the end of a leash. We grow older and older
and go further and further away from our parents, all
the while forgetting the string that binds us to them.
But one day we arrive at the end of our leash, or
something happens to pull us back. In one instant we
are yanked back to them, seeking their approval.
It is nice to think that we are independent, but
daddy and mummy always have their power over us.
Until one or the other breaks the silence..."
..........................................................
Whatever roads you have travelled in life, perhaps
you have not told everything to your parents. Are you
afraid of spilling the beans? Do not worry, because
your parents are very likely also in the same boat.
Perhaps they were not perfect, but it is for you to
try to reconcile with them.
This is not at all ridiculous. On the contrary:
provided you express your feelings - instead of
blame and reproach - you will make them happy and you
will thereby make yourself happy.
.........................................................
"Children start with loving their parents.
Afterwards they judge them. It is very rare that they
pardon them."
Oscar Wilde.
Christian Godefrey
Misti, many children drift away from their parents, for any number of reasons. Some can't wait to get away and carry a grudge for many a long year. My relationship with my parents was pretty good. I was in the process of moving away from the family nest when I was 20 but my father suddenly died. I stayed because I felt my mother and younger sister needed me around. It brought us closer together. After about 3 years I moved away but went to visit every Sunday. My sister married and not long after my mother became seriously ill. You'd expect that to bring us even closer but there were problems. My mother died and 2 years later I got married. That upset my sister and she became very aggressive about it. Verbal abuse directed at me and a hatred of my wife has not waned an inch in 23 years. I've met my sister about 6 times in that period. She in turn has only once seen my daughter, when she was just a few weeks old. I still don't know why my sister turned so nasty but maybe it was jealousy, sibling rivalry. I shake my head and wonder. I'm just glad that my wife and daughter get along so well. Feuds within a family are very sad.
Wonderful story, Misti. I'll be back soon to add something to the thread.
Re: THE LEASH
Definitely food for thought, Misti. Thanks for posting it. I disagree with this, though:
Misti26 wrote:Perhaps they were not perfect, but it is for you to
try to reconcile with them.
If they were merely imperfect, whatever, but there are many situations in which parents go well beyond imperfection, and I think it is healthier for those parents to attempt to right those wrongs rather than wait for the child to take the burden of healing the relationship upon him/herself.
I agree with Sozobe on the responsibility of parents to attempt to right wrongs, but in some cases, that is impossible.
I hated my father for years even though he died when I was a teenager in high school. It was very unhealthy for me and causing all sorts of problems.
Finally, I decided to try to forgive him for what he did to all of us. By this I don't mean condoning his behavior in any way, but to look at him as a human being (which we don't tend to do when we are children) and to try to understand what made him the way he was. It took several years, but it was the best thing I've ever done, in terms of my mental health.
My point is that even after death, it is possible to have a sort of reconciliation.
True, Diane. I saw that happen with my own mother.
oldandknew, what a sad story, because these resentments discolor and mar our lives so much, and worse yet, at times the person with the resentment doesn't even realize it's only hurting them. It takes away so much from our own mental health and inhibits our own growth.
I hope your sister will someday give it all up and bring your family back together.
Sozobe, I agree with you but I know in my case my dad would never have reconciled with himself, as far as he was concerned, he did nothing wrong.
So in the long run it was up to me to come to terms with it, to realize none of us are perfect, and what happened is water under the bridge, and, this is the biggy, I was not going to allow him to rob me of any more minutes than he already had.
That was the moment I grew up............
Diane:
Well said!
In a way, I feel my dad was the one who lost, because he missed the love that he would have received if he had been different.
As much as I understand it more now, in retrospect, and at the childhood he himself had, I still feel some deep-down grief that we didn't have a childhood but were forced to grow up before our time, and also without the security and love and self-esteem that a normal childhood would have given us.
I think this is one of the saddest situations to befall a child.
Wow! What a eye opening thread Misti. This has just made me even more thankful that I have wonderful parents. My father died when I was 21, but he was the best. Mom and I live together and get along great which is probably why I'm still with her. I gotta give mom a big hug tomorrow ;-)
Misti, the moment I told my father that if he did not acknowledge his problems and deal with them, I was out of his life, was the day I grew up. (He did.)
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