As I have shared elsewhere on the forum, I carry what I call my mother wound--that core, primal rejection before I was even born, and all the emotional and psychological unavailability of my Mom (and Dad) I experienced as a baby, young child, teen, and into adulthood. I am now almost 53 years old and that deep sense of disconnection and not belonging to my FOO is stronger than ever.
Yesterday, DH, my son, his wife, and I visited DH's family. En route, we met my FOO (Dad, Mom, and sister) for breakfast. The time with my FOO exacerbated the whole sad reality of what I do not and have never had. Keep in mind, my Dad is now 85 and my Mom is 86, and the passage of time only makes all this even more poignant and futile feeling.
We live over 3 hours from my FOO and rarely see them, so it had been around a year since last time. From the moment we encountered each other at the restaurant, in the parking lot, it was painful and very awkward--just like it has always been for me. I was the first one to walk up to the car, where my mom was standing (OMG she had shrunk a few inches and was now walking a bit hunched over)--and there was no gesture by her to hug or warmly greet me (us). I had to make the initiative, and it felt like I was hugging a cardboard figure. My Dad was still in the car--spacey and "not there" now that his age and two mini-strokes have reduced him to feebleness and 'just existing'. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, but it felt so strange. My sister was actually friendly as we embraced. Repeat sequences for DH, son and his wife.
After a struggle to even get seated, since my Dad uses a walker and is slow going, with the exception of my sister engaging me and DH, conversation was weird. My Dad has always adored my son, so they seemed to actually be communicating to each other in some sort of cool way. My Mom was super quiet and seemed exhausted, I suspect b/c she is now my Dad's main caretaker at home. It wasn't until the bill had been paid that I mustered up the courage to try to ask some questions of my mom, which my T had encouraged me to do if the opportunity arose. It had to do with her Dad, his drinking, and finding some answers about her being a CoA, in the hopes of making sense of my childhood trauma and my mom's behaviors. I handled it nonchalantly, and to my surprise, she actually perked up a little and shared some very insightful info.
Mostly, though, the time was awkward and depressing feeling for me. I know time cannot stand still, but somehow decades have gone by and my parents have grown old and feeble. My Dad is now essentially 'gone', as he has that blank look and unable to really express much of anything. And my Mom is more disconnected to me than she ever was. And I am still the awkward, lonely little girl trying to 'connect' with them and not knowing how. The goodbyes were as awkward as the greetings.
The time at my DH's Dad's place was actually wonderful, and juxtaposed with the time with my own FOO, was such a stark contrast. There WAS a sense of connection and love there, and even though extended family was visiting (whom we had not seen for 25 years!), they were warm, friendly, and our time was very special and I felt supported and seen.
This morning I had hoped to journal about some other stuff, but within 5 minutes of beginning to write I was sobbing uncontrollably as I felt the release about yesterday's happenings. One of the things that stood out so much to me was my deep grief that I can never ever have the love, belonging, and connection I have yearned for with my Mom and Dad. No matter how much I have longed for it, my Mom and Dad are fading quickly and will die, and I am so disappointed--my endless search for their love, support, and caring in the way I wanted and so needed is a bust. So I am mourning my lifetime of grief and what I will never find with them.
As I grieve, I am reminded of some very wise words a special friend shared with me recently--how grieving our losses is essential in order for us to heal the wounds of the past and what we never received in childhood.
Amidst this grieving of the sinking reality of what I will never have with my Mom and Dad, I realize that as I continue on the path of healing, I must celebrate and relish the love I DO have now, along with the support and connections that are nurturing me on my journey. Besides my DH and related family, other friends, and my precious T, I am so grateful to all of you here who have been so caring and empathic. Thank you so much xxxx
