I said "good-bye" to my mother when I was three years old. Of course, I didn't know I was saying, "good-bye," to her. I just thought she was taking a camping trip with the other siblings, and honestly I was happy to be pawned off on my grandparents. There were four of us, and I was relishing the thought of some one-on-one time.
Coincidentally, I had an eerily similar parting with my alcoholic sister just a little over four years ago. I haven't seen, or been with her, since she dove, full bore, into her alcoholism.
The irony isn't lost on me- nor are the familiar family patterns that are often repeated generation after generation.
Right now, I am just busy holding both.
Morna - a haunting on so many levels. A child's interpretation of a tragedy, losing a mom so young, and the long, long reach of familial patterns. So terribly sad. I know too well how family portraits aren't all pretty or the way we wish we could paint them. I admire your courage in writing raw truths, and hope as you continue to write that it generates ongoing healing and strength for you, each day.
ReplyDeleteMorna, thank you for the bravery of sharing your story. Holidays and families are not always the festive joy-filled gatherings that others seem to enjoy. So many are bittersweet and some are downright depressing. I have a daughter who is five years sober and another seeking help for depression, and holidays are “done differently” in our family. We hold the pen on what works for us, and we honor tradition in some old ways and many new ways. Pain seems part of this universal landscape that we call Christmas in the 21st century, and yet I look with peace at the nativity under the tree and am reminded that there was no room in that inn…..yet that peace transcended time. Thank you for sharing this piece today!
ReplyDeleteYou shared so much of yourself -- and where you come from -- in such a compact slice. Your piece evokes sadness and longing. Like Fran, I admire your courage to move forward. It can't be easy.
ReplyDeleteYour post is brave and hits home with all of us who have lost family members without death, but by choice. There is a giant hole when we lose someone who is still potentially a part of our world. May you find peace and continue to hold on tight.
ReplyDeleteThis is a raw, vulnerable post, Morna. Thank you for sharing. I hope you can go forward in a positive way, knowing and recognizing so much about yourself and your family history. I think it's hard, what you've so bravely done, and think you might inspire others by sharing this post. Thank you. Carol from The apples in my orchard.
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