Secrets can be dangerous things in families. They leave people wondering and guessing about what the truth really is. Although secrets will not remain secrets if your intention is to learn what really happened, and do so with love. My mother has kept many secrets about her past, and they are now coming to light for me. My father told me that my parents married, after only 8 days of knowing each other, and before he went overseas; because my mother told him she thought she was pregnant with someone else's child. My mother has neither admitted nor denied this, as recently as yesterday. My father was absent from my life in a variety of ways, and primarily emotionally. And now I understand that he very well may have questioned if I was actually his child. Just last night, I spoke with my mother about this. I told her, calmly, firmly, and with love in my heart; that although she had not confirmed nor denied what my father had shared with me, that she knew what the truth really was. And that if my father, indeed, told me the truth; then he very well may have questioned my paternity. And I added that this may be the reason that my father really never stood up to the plate where I was concerned.
And after I spoke to her I shut my mouth and kept quiet.
Based on her reaction, I now feel at peace that this is what, indeed, happened. And I have no further need to confront her about her many deceptions. My father was certainly no saint either. He was physically and emotionally abusive of me, as was my mother. Besides not being there for me in many ways, was unfaithful to my mother. And I now understand that he was just trying to find some happiness for himself. They both did the best with what they had to give to me. Neither my parents were evil monsters. They were simply scared and unhappy people. And they didn't trust, nor understand about the power of love. They did not know who they were. And they have both suffered greatly themselves.
When I was a little girl I had a dream. My father was in a shopping mall, by himself, looking out a great big window. And I was watching him, and I knew that a great big tornado was headed in his direction, and I could do nothing to warn him or stop it. I awoke with a terrible feeling. And only recently, I have remembered having this dream.
My father died several years ago after a long battle with cancer for many, many years. It was only just before his death that I was able to make peace with him. During his last illness, he experienced extensive brain damage, and was unable to speak. And it was in silence, that we were finally able to communicate the truth to each other. Regardless of what my father did, I always loved him and I take with me many, many gifts that he gave me. Even those that he did not realize he was giving. And I am grateful to him for being my father. He was the right father for me.
With my mother, things have been quite a bit harder. The pain has been deeper and forgiveness has been more difficult to come by. Here is something that I wrote very recently:
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I'm pretty certain that my mother tried to abort me. She aborted one of my siblings, and lost twins that were born pre-mature. And, as a child, I struggled to survive and had a few close calls! I overdosed on Johnson's orange-flavored baby aspirin when I was 2yo. My mother was on the telephone for a couple of hours and wasn't paying much attention to what I was doing. I'm here to tell the story because I brought her the empty bottle. I ate those aspirin after eating a whole roll of Life Savers that I also got out of her pocket during the same phone call! And I remember having my stomach pumped and screaming so hard that I burst blood vessels in my eyes! And then there was the time I was lost at the 1964 World's Fair in New York when I was 4yo. I somehow got to the security station and the officers were desperately trying to calm me down. I remember one of them trying to put his cap on my head and another one offering me some chocolate star candy from a white paper bag. And I remember the children of a family friend's running up to the security station. And my mother was not far behind. Her response to this was to take me behind a covered wagon in the Western exhibit, pull my pants down and spank me real hard! And she later told me that she did this because she had wet her pants and she was scared. My pants were dry!!!
And there was also a strange tumble that I took down some stairs, and I've always wondered if I didn't have some help in getting to the basement floor. And even to this day, where my mother is concerned, I am still fighting for my survival! No matter what I have ever done; as far as my mother is concerned, it's not good enough!! And this time...
GOOD ENOUGH IS GOOD ENOUGH!!!
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My mother, too, has suffered greatly in her life, including having poor health. At the moment, I am living with my mother. Although this is about to change very soon. She continues to harbor a great deal of rage and fear which are terrifically detrimental to the health and well-being of both of us. I feel some sadness that she continues to choose the path that she has been on. Although I respect that she has her own journey, and it is different than mine. We have reached the fork in the road, and I have chosen to take a different path. And it is with love, forgiveness, and gratitude, that I leave my mother.
It would be nice to arrive at the same sort of peace with my mother while she's alive that I did with my father just before he died. I understand that this may or may not happen. It no longer matters. I am making peace with her inside of my heart and, with love, I choose to forgive her. And regardless of what my mother did, I always loved her and I take with me many, many gifts that she gave me. Even those that she did not realize she was giving. And I am grateful to her for being my mother. She was the right mother for me.
I hope that in sharing my story with you, that you take from it whatever is appropriate for you. I realize that it is a lot to take in. Although it may be a difficult and somewhat painful story to read, I can assure you that it has a happy ending!
And you may or may not understand this all at the moment, and that is fine. Enough truly is enough! Make friends with the angel of death. That is one of your greatest allies. Calmly allow it to clean all the meat from your bones, and let the flames rise up to purify you. Become the peakcock, the phoenix, the plummed serpent, the Kukulcan, the Quetzacoatl. And join me at the sacred cenote at Chicen Itza in 2012.
I ate a whole bottle of St. Joseph's Aspririn for Children when I was 2, in 1962, while my grandfather was babysitting me and he was on the telephone for a long time not paying attention to what I was doing. I filled the empty bottle up with water and put it under one of the sofa cushions, but left the cushion sloppy so it got noticed and lifted, and the water-filled aspirin bottle discovered. Spent the rest of the day & night in the hospital, with an MD coming in every hour, on the hour, to draw blood from my left armpit for testing. No stomach pumping, I think too much time had passed, so I just rode out my OD in a plastic tent that night.