My mother had a tumultuous relationship with her own mother. I am not sure I know the true details of this relationship as most of what my mom says has to be taken with a heap full of salt. Truth is, my mother has little relationship with anyone she knows.
For some reason my grandmother didn't like my father. I think she thought he wasn't good enough, but frankly it turns out that she and my mother are one and the same, and so by this one can infer that my grandmother wasn't that good at relationships either. Needless to say there was a long period when neither my mother nor father spoke to my grandmother.
My parents did not want their issues to spill over to any relationship my sister and I had with my grandparents and so we would be dropped off at their place to play, and picked up at a mutually convenient time. My parents never came in, my grandparents never went out. It was a veritable Chinese wall.
The relationship between my mother and grandmother improved only slightly after my father died but suddenly, and without any clear reason, they reconciled. And my grandmother died six months later. My mother, always looking for a reason to be depressed, found solace in the guilt that she and her mom had not come together sooner. She mourned the lost time and the things unsaid.
I have a friend who has a grandmother that I believe she is close to, who won't speak to her. She's elderly and dying. My friend exposed a family member for things that should not have been done. But she exposed the golden child, and by so doing she alienated herself from her family at a time when she would want to be a part of them the most. I don't know the whole story, or the history. and I may have my facts a little mixed but the essence is true. I've told her to storm her grandmother's hospital room because this is not only about her. Because she needs to be able to say goodbye. Because when she's gone it won't matter that she didn't want to speak to her. Because blood is thicker.
I have a friend who left the man she was married to because he was not a very nice man at all. She tried very hard to put up with him, with his selfishness, abusive mouth and his nasty mother. I say this confidently because I witnessed each of these behaviors myself. She left him because she wanted to be free. And happy. It took time and a great deal of courage. And when she refused to accept ultimatums and money to forgive and forget, he took everything that he could. He took her belongings. He took her friends. And he took their children. Nobody is perfect. There are always three sides to a story. But there is never a valid excuse to poison children against a parent. My friend is one of the strongest people I know. And she longs for the kids that will have nothing to do with her. Kids that are too young to understand, too innocent to be told that the things their father did - the other side. And when I lash out at him she tells me to let it go. Because she has no hatred, because she is only open to love. Because she will learn from this. And because she will be there when her children need her.
Keith didn't speak to his father for many years. He wasn't there when his dad died. It was his choice not to speak to him and he had his reasons. I know what they are and I understand them. This is the opposite side of the coin.
Is it different when we choose, as adults, to sever a relationship? Will we still regret it, when that decision is made on our behalf, when we are too young to understand for ourselves? Can we make up for lost time?
People have come into and moved out of my life. There are people that I was so close to we spoke every day, that I have forgotten about. Some drifted away, some were severed. None of these were blood but each was my choice. A few years ago I wrote about the family bond. Maybe blood shouldn't dictate or mandate any form of relationship. I don't know.
But what I do know, is that the choice should never be made on your behalf.
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