This was originally written on 5-10-2018 early in the morning.
I had a great call with mom at 4:00 am. She apparently pressed the wrong button on her phone and facetime called me. I thought it was an emergency and answered it. I told her I would call her back in a few. I got up, dressed, and made a cup of coffee. Little did I know what would happen…
We talked for a bit. Mom asked how I was, I said really good. I told her a bit more about how I was, said I was on sabbatical from work, she still doesn’t want to hear what happened with me, she doesn’t know about my suicidality. She keeps asking if I had a midlife crisis. I say no (what does that mean anyway?). I tell her I am seeing a therapist 2x a week for 4 hrs total. She asks if he is a “normal” therapist. I smile and say, what does that mean? She says well, he doesn’t do Voodoo, he hasn’t hypnotized you has he? I say not he is not into Voodoo, and he has not hypnotized me, and yes, he is a therapist. She seems worried that I am into something strange (she uses the word strange). She wants to make sure I am getting “normal” treatment, she uses the word normal several times more. I assure her I am getting good treatment. And that I have not been hypnotized, and have not seen any chickens beheaded.
I then ask her to tell me about her father, Pete. Describe for me what his qualities and traits are for me. She stops and thinks. Looking up, she says, peaceful, kind, faithful, giving. She recalled Pete building things for them as Christmas presents out of wood when they were kids because they were so poor, like blocks and small toys, which Dorothy would then dye with food coloring.
She then says: They never owned a house, always living in the ranch hands house.
I ask her to describe her mother, Dorothy. Mom says: faithful, kind, loving, happy, playful, social, and used foul language, (which my Mom didn’t approve of). Mom added, she was competitive. You couldn’t beat her at anything. She always won at everything. Mom shared memories of Dorothy going to her sister’s house (Aunt Gladys) and making doll clothes for one of my mother’s dolls when she was little.
She then says that even though both Dorothy and Pete went to church all the time, they were never baptized because they smoked cigarettes. They felt that it made them never good enough for baptism. This made me sad for them. How our own perceptions limit us, keeping them from what they must have really wanted to be.
As we talked, she smiled as she looked back at these memories. As we talked, I could FEEL both Pete and Dorothy in my heart more clearly. It was beautiful. The memories and times with them start to rebuild and unfold more completely. Prior to this moment, my memories of Pete and Dorothy were clouded by their deaths, watching old age and sickness take them.
Remembering my father, I ask her about Dad. She begins: He persevered, helped people, serious, quiet, a thinker, reader, creative, entrepreneur, faithful to his mother (which at times caused some trouble). You could never beat him at trivial pursuit (he was so well read it was amazing)
We talk about Dad further. I have, for a long time, held onto the knowledge that my Dad may have had an affair. After he died, I came into possession of a lot of his things. One was a box full of journals and letters. In them, I discovered a lot of his thoughts and memories. Around the time I was born, it seemed he had an affair, but I couldn’t determine if it was accurate or not, and he wasn’t around for me to ask him. I didn’t know if she knew or if my brother knew. So I kept the knowledge to myself for the last 20 years. It’s has been heavy, disturbing, and made me question many things. Last year when I moved, I read it all one last time, sitting on the floor of my basement, sad, hurt, confused, then destroyed it all.
Then something happened with mom and me as our talk transitioned.
This morning when I talked with mom, she brought up the time that Dad was doing work for the military in the early ’70s, and his unit was investigating a woman in his unit. Mom said she had always had suspicions. I asked her about what? She said: an affair. She went on telling me what had happened and how she felt. How she confronted him and what he said. She told me how he moved out of our home for a while after I was born. I felt how hard this must have been for her after the loss of two children and then having me.
I told her I knew because I had possessed all Dad’s letters and journals since he died, and all that time, I had been carrying it around as a burden. I told her I had never said anything because it wasn’t right to tell when he wasn’t here to tell his side of the story. Not to defend himself, but to make the story clear, because it certainly wasn’t clear from old memories and letters. I told her I had destroyed it all. She thanked me. Another burden I have been able to let go of. More memories can come back, things remembered can return to me.
Sometimes things seem to have strange origins. We can’t fully put our minds around how or why they happen. I could have not called Mom back this morning. I could have been upset that she woke me up at 4 am with her errant facetime call. But I did call her back and I wasn’t upset. I just listened to the “music”. I paid attention to what was happening at the moment. That seemed to be that we should talk.
The moments where we can be present, sit with whatever is taking place and be vulnerable and compassionate are opportunities to connect and learn. The moments where we can sit, share what we are struggling with and ask questions with others to discover what has happened. To listen and be present with what has happened and how we feel is so important to our healing and also theirs.
For 20 years I had carried a dark secret, both physically and emotionally. This had caused me a lot of turmoil and struggle. Through being able, to be honest with myself and my Mom we both were able to share things that had been a burden, and in doing so we were both able to lighten our loads.