Familial Snags

aging, family, memoir, writing, , , 16 Comments

Days before she turned 65, Mom confessed that she suspected she had cancer.

“I’m thinking about just letting it take me,” she said.

There were many things I wanted to say in that moment, such as: You should be discussing this with a therapist and not your daughter, but; this was the nature of our relationship. Instead, I tried to remain calm and matter of fact:

“You want to end your life.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Your Father’s impossible, and I’m tired of his games. I can’t do it anymore.”

I knew that there were many things my mother still wanted to do with her life, but I could understand the frustration with Father. She’d tried to leave him before, but it never worked out.

“If Dad wasn’t an issue, what would you be doing with your life now?”

“I’d join a choir, learn to play the piano, find a Euchre club, and I’d love to go dancing!”

“Go see a doctor, Mom…and maybe get some assertiveness training.”

It was cancer, and by the time Mom sought medical help she needed emergency surgery. The first thing she said to me coming out of recovery was: “You were right. I decided I’m coming back to live for myself.”

Now 65, I think back to those days and ponder my own state of mind. Like my mother, I am outgoing, fun-loving, and a people pleaser. Inside, I struggle with ideation of death at times, thinking it a simpler solution than confronting difficult issues. It’s as if I have inherited her embodiment of powerlessness.

Last night I dreamt that I encountered Mom in the pharmacy. She looked wan and haggard, as if lost. Why are you still here? I asked, surprised to see her. Before she could answer, I realized that she was hanging around out of worry for me.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I reassured her. “But you need to move on. This is your time for healing. Heaven is waiting.”

I woke up feeling as if I had resolved a lifelong issue. Maybe I had. Such familial wounds reside in the psyche, after all, seldom connected to rational thought.

Mom’s burdens are no longer my burdens and vice versa. How tangled these family ties are. How perilous the snags can be, unless we are willing to acknowledge them and break free.

(Image my own)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

16 thoughts on “Familial Snags”

  2. I feel dreams release the subconscious. It’s difficult to face the loss of a loved one and my mom is still in my dreams even though she passed in 1968. I have let go but still remember the good times we had together as I should. Healing takes time and you are on the right track.

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  3. Wow, VJ. This post, and the underlying work, is so amazing for how you’ve connected the threads. Reading it, I imagine the release you must feel by seeing it all together. Not sure what the right word is to go with so I’ll try – congratulations! And thanks for sharing – so powerful to see how others pull life together!

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  4. Amazing how a dream can help resolve an issue. I can relate to family tangles and how powerful if unreasonable our connections are. Thanks for sharing and stirring thoughts.

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  7. Thank you for sharing, VJ. The pivot from powerlessness to empowered can be so unexpected. I’m glad to hear you’ve found some peace thanks to your mom’s visit in your dream. Your urging her to move on, it’s her time to heal, feels like important punctuation. And your last line will stick with me for a while. “How perilous the snags can be, unless we are willing to acknowledge them and break free.” Yes. I feel that. All the best to you. 💕

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