The subject of forgiveness has come up in therapy for nearly a month now. It pisses Robert off to no end. He’s worried we’ll go back to her. He says it would be like a dog returning to its vomit. How descriptive!
What we offer the mother isn’t a blanket of forgiveness. I can and have forgiven her for many things. Some stuff I think about and shake my head like “what on earth was she thinking?” I may feel some anger about it but the memory of those particular things no longer haunt me. I guess too I don’t feel a need for justice or for an answer. When it comes to things like keeping us homeless or leaving us hungry I don’t feel the need for an answer. I do not think she needs to answer to me for not giving me a blanket, curtains, towels, silverware, etc. I remember those things with sadness but not fear. I suppose the things I will not offer forgiveness for have to do with physical and sexual abuse.
Strangely enough I understand a little bit about why she kept going back to her mother’s house. When I was a kid it angered me to no end that she put herself in a position to be turned away. She took us over to her mother’s house and did her best to prove she could be just as cruel as they are. She wanted her mother’s approval even if it meant hurting her children or allowing them to be hurt.
I get it though. I mean I know how desperate my heart is or was for my mother. I know what my mother has done and what she allowed yet for so long I was willing to toss myself under that bus. I sacrificed my mental and physical health to be with her. I let her run over me. I let her interfere with my marriage, my money and every other aspect of my life for years upon years after leaving home. I know why she kept going back to her mother. I did the same thing. I can forgive her short sightedness. She wanted her mother. Period. I can forgive that desperation because I understand it. I’m able to separate the driving force behind her actions from the actions themselves. In this way I can offer forgiveness and not demand accountability. I can forgive her for what drove her.
When I was fifteen I asked my mother how on earth she could be 45 and not understand her mother doesn’t love her. It seemed so clear to me, why didn’t she understand? The grandmother use to call and tell us to come over but when we showed up she’d say she changed her mind or simply not answer the door. We’d pile in the car and drive 30 min back home. The whole time she blamed us for pushing her mother away. It seemed so clear to me who her mother was. I wasn’t sure why my mother couldn’t see things as clearly as I did. I wasn’t sure why she didn’t give up hope that her mom would answer the door. Here I am 37 years old and now it’s not so clear anymore.
I shouldn’t say these things. Robert might think we’re going to go home or something. We’re not. I’m just saying I understand a little better now. I know why she made the drive and why she hoped. Still, whatever I hope in has to be based on truth. The truth is, I can’t force her to love me purely. And I can’t sacrifice myself with the hope of being her pride and joy, her daughter. It doesn’t matter how desperate I am or what I offer up or how much I forgive, she will never open a loving door to me.
Forgive My Desperate Heart -Thursday, February 05, 2009 – 2:21AM EST
Married? You were married at one time. How’d I miss that?
Forgiving and forgetting – two different things.
Your posts are always good Austin. Not sure why really, but this one made me tear up. I really do understand what you are trying to say…I have been there too.
Laurie
@ Laurie,
I dissociated through most of it and cried at the end. It was a hard post to write. I think for a full month forgiveness has come up in therapy. I figured I’d finally write about it. I guess I was trying to convey that even though some things have been forgiven (this without her knowledge) I still can’t give her me and I still can’t have her. After giving up hope there’s grief and that is what I feel most of the time when it comes to my mother… grief.
thanks for your comment
Austin
I can see how hard of a post this was to write. I know that feeling of grief, grief for the mother one never had. It colors everything, doesn’t it?
The issue of forgiving ourselves for needing our mothers regardless of what happened comes to mind too when I read this. I am nowhere near this, but I can see it would be a good thing. Of course a child needs their mother, and it’s not like we can go find another one.