The deep seated angst of hoping and begging for peace and resolution- was relieved on the day which I received notice, by a lady whom I barely know, of my mother’s departure from his world. Today is her birthday.
I located details for her service, from the online obituary link, emailed to me by my gloating ex husband– AND I showed up- because my recovery teaches me to do a right thing, no matter how I feel. My mother’s family collectively used this occasion to put me firmly and publicly in my place— outside. I demonstrated for my sons HOW I willingly choose to do a hard and very unpleasant thing– when it would be much easier not to. I have zero regrets about my words and conduct around this situation. Though– the whole thing is regrettable. I am proud of how my sons saw me behave, and sad for the divisions that this service illuminated for them. Their family of origin not acknowledging or including them or their mother— their father present and having nothing to do with them/us.
Seeing my ex husband listed as one of my mother’s survivors is a vile reminder of my sister’s manner. I am sure my ex feels thrilled by the sentiment behind that gesture. How is that even appropriate?
I am ever grateful for the financial support of my mother. She poured tens of thousands of dollars into rescuing MY house from my ex husband, in our unnecessarily litigious and costly divorce. There was literally nothing to fight for. I alone, entered that marriage with money and assets—the house was mine and he just needed to get TF out and pay child support based on state calculations. I asked for nothing– and like my sister, he wanted war and victory, not peaceful resolution—Zero sum game for him—I needed to lose in order for him to feel as if he won. They are two peas, for sure. Kindred spirits. 100%. Thanks to both of them, my children have lost the most.
Fortunately, in recovery, I learned that acts of gratitude involve paying IT forward not being indebted and having to pay a person back, by agreeing to things which are unwholesome and hurtful. I think it is has been expressed that if I were truly grateful, I would have accepted the unacceptable-just taken my licks(for being who I am). I do not agree. If I borrow something I will of course, return it without prompting. But when you offer something, you do not get to extract whatever you like in return. That is dirty, sick, secret emotional contract bullshit. I will not abide.
We relocated cross country and I served my mother well as she neared the end of her life. The most wholesome badass thing I had ever done. I was glad to be able to spend several days a week keeping her company and attending to her appointments. It was neither easy nor enjoyable, as her illness and treatments did not erase or fix our very troubled family dynamic. I was yielding, only to good orderly direction, which is its own kind of reward. Intentionally choosing to do the hard things is how we develop courage. I love my courage the most amount. One day at a time, I am breaking sick cycles and generational curses.
