Yes, my mother’s many judgements cut deep, but I’ve come around to understand that her relationship with her own mother couldn’t have been a picnic. I was told that my grandmother had a fierce temper, such that she’d pull her husband’s whiskers… yikes.
Toxic parenting patterns have to come from somewhere, and we’re all just doing the best we know how to do, whether or not we have biological children.
Jody, thank you for your perspective on posthumously loving/admiring your mother. Mine was more in the emotionally stunted department, unable to cope with my emotional exuberance; "she has always been dramatic", she'd apologize to anyone near enough to endure what I thought was normal speech. But her academic intelligence was also well above average (but couldn't afford university); she lovingly nurtured my ailing, damaged father with a strength I doubt I'll ever have, she loved dogs, and she absolutely loved her family, in her own way. I'll have to remember to call upon her as well as the army of strong women in my lineage!
Thank you Amy for sharing your experience with your own mother and I'm sorry she experienced your 'exuberance' as 'dramatic'; those judgements cut deep, don't they?! I can still hear my mother's criticism in my head around certain things I say/do/feel/think and no doubt I always will... but just as I have learned to have self-compassion and to treat myself with greater kindness, her death has afforded me the safety to do the same for her. She was so much more than 'my mother'. Hugs, Jody x
This is so profound and so honest, easy for many of us to identify with and ultimately heart warming. Thank you.
What frightens me is confronting the knowledge that there will be no daughter there at the end and that the essential life and death connection will not be made. Sorry to be sad and selfish!
Dear Sarah - thank you for your comment and there is no need to apologise about being 'sad' and 'selfish'; being sad that we will not have daughters to hopefully comfort and care for us at the end of our lives seems perfectly reasonable to me... and as for being 'selfish', I see this rather as an awareness that those of ageing without children (and many who are parents too) perhaps need to be a little more awake to our old-age plans, and who will be there for us, so that we can start to make changes in our lives NOW so that we can look forward to it with some sense of ease, where possible. I will be sharing much more about what those actions might look like in future essays over the next few years as I do exactly that myself... Hugs, Jody x
Tamsin - you might find Perdita Finn's book 'Taking Back the Magic' an interesting read... as she remakes her paternal relationship with a selfish, self-obsessed father after his death... x
This hits so close to home, Jody. Thank you for your honesty. My mother is still alive. Still a very wounded person who is actively hurting me and the people I love. I can forgive her for the things she did or didn't do in my past. But she keeps adding new things to the queue and that is hard. Interesting to see what this looks like from the other side.
Thank you for such granular honesty...and I think it takes courage to say "It is easier to love my mother now she’s dead.". I feel the same way...my mother died when I was 26 and I have spent my adult life healing, transforming that relationship that was quite difficult when she was alive, learning from her example how not to live, and finally embracing the positive qualities she gave me. Yes, the relationship continues and can be radically transformed. In a way my mother's early death freed me to become who I really am.
In many ways, I defined myself by not being like my mother... now she is dead I find that I am able to recognise that she had many lovable qualities too, buried in amongst her anger and criticism of me, and that helps me to feel closer to her in death. Thank you for sharing your experience too xx
Lovely piece. It made me reflect on my relationship with my Daddy. I wanted so badly for us to be closer, but neither of us was raised to show feelings and hug and stuff so it was awkward. Now that I am over 50, things are in perspective, and I think about all the hugs we missed. Thank you.
My mom’s mother died when Mom was four. She worked hard at being a mom, trying to avoid passing on damage. Sometimes succeeding and sometimes falling short. She passed away recently after a very long illness. After grieving her decline for ten years my feelings at her passing were unconventional to say the least. My reasons are slightly different, but I am, like you focused on my mother’s new freedom and my relief that the illness that chipped away at our relationship no longer has any hold over her.
Also, strangely, the first time I tried to make a go of freelance writing, I knew Brandon Collinsworth a little bit.
Hi Holly and thank you for sharing your experience, and it's good to know that I am not the only one experiencing some kind of personal and creative renaissance after our mother's death! The last two essays I've written here in the last two weeks + the one I wrote 2 months ago, just 2 days after my mother's death, have felt more 'real' to me than anything I've written for a while... and the way that you, and others, have responded to them tells me that there is something powerful that wants to be expressed thorugh me right now. My mother loved words and books, and in her younger, less medicated years, used to write poetry - I would find scraps of them in the waste paper bin when I was a child. Maybe we are working together now... Sending hugs for that hard, hard, decade you allude to. Jody x
Beautiful! As someone who has also come from a difficult lineage, I often find more comfort in my ancestors, as well. It’s interesting how our relationships can change with them too, once they are on the Otherside. My father and his father were both hard men when Earthbound. Yet, now, I feel such a close kinship with them.
How fascinating - I find it hard to connect with my paternal line at all as, apart from my maternal grandfather, I did not meet any of them - but maybe that will shift in time, as yours has. @Perdita Finn's recent book 'Take Back the Magic: Conversations with the Unseen World' is about many things, but one of the big pieces of it is how her relationship with her father, who was a difficult, demanding and unsupportive man, changed once he died. It is an extraordinary book!
Brilliant. Sometimes when one asks ancestors or family for help, they say, "Nope", but miraculously, the lineage and DNA of courage, tenacity, faith, and hopefulness bubbles up to the surface and there's an intuitive "I can do this", especially moving through and past and then onward toward emotional, spiritual, mental and physical health. Or maybe just one of those "healths". It's beautiful, the room you've realized. Thank you for sharing all that you do.
Thank you for commenting Mary. I do wonder if perhaps the things that 'bubble up' in you are the answers you were waiting for? Maybe it's not always words or a feeling? When I have tried to image the incredible hardships and joys my ancestors have experienced, how could I not have inherited both strengths and vulnerabilities?! My wounds in this lifetime have been the portal to so much... and although I sometimes wish I could have been one of those people who had a happy home life and went on to be untroubled adults (I have a best friend like this, and she's a real tonic!), I doubt I would ever have accessed my ancestral gifts had I not been between a rock and a hard place many, many times, from the womb onwards... Hugs, Jody x
As an only child with an elderly mother, with whom it has always been difficult, I found this to be of great comfort. I had never considered calling on my ancestors, but will certainly do so now. I am glad that you are now able to look back in peace and find solace. I am so glad I discovered your rich and honest writing here. Thank you.
Thank you Deborah - the mother daughter relationship is rarely a simple one it seems, but for some of us, it's a lifelong ache. I never, ever, expected to be at peace with my mother, but that was a totally unexpected gift of her dementia - her barriers were gone and she allowed a connection that had never been possible before. I hope that you can feel the wind at your back from your ancestors soon too. Hugs, Jody x
What a great title!
Thank you! x
Thank you for your kindness, Jody!
Yes, my mother’s many judgements cut deep, but I’ve come around to understand that her relationship with her own mother couldn’t have been a picnic. I was told that my grandmother had a fierce temper, such that she’d pull her husband’s whiskers… yikes.
Toxic parenting patterns have to come from somewhere, and we’re all just doing the best we know how to do, whether or not we have biological children.
Have a wonderful day!🌺
Jody, thank you for your perspective on posthumously loving/admiring your mother. Mine was more in the emotionally stunted department, unable to cope with my emotional exuberance; "she has always been dramatic", she'd apologize to anyone near enough to endure what I thought was normal speech. But her academic intelligence was also well above average (but couldn't afford university); she lovingly nurtured my ailing, damaged father with a strength I doubt I'll ever have, she loved dogs, and she absolutely loved her family, in her own way. I'll have to remember to call upon her as well as the army of strong women in my lineage!
Thank you Amy for sharing your experience with your own mother and I'm sorry she experienced your 'exuberance' as 'dramatic'; those judgements cut deep, don't they?! I can still hear my mother's criticism in my head around certain things I say/do/feel/think and no doubt I always will... but just as I have learned to have self-compassion and to treat myself with greater kindness, her death has afforded me the safety to do the same for her. She was so much more than 'my mother'. Hugs, Jody x
This is so profound and so honest, easy for many of us to identify with and ultimately heart warming. Thank you.
What frightens me is confronting the knowledge that there will be no daughter there at the end and that the essential life and death connection will not be made. Sorry to be sad and selfish!
Dear Sarah - thank you for your comment and there is no need to apologise about being 'sad' and 'selfish'; being sad that we will not have daughters to hopefully comfort and care for us at the end of our lives seems perfectly reasonable to me... and as for being 'selfish', I see this rather as an awareness that those of ageing without children (and many who are parents too) perhaps need to be a little more awake to our old-age plans, and who will be there for us, so that we can start to make changes in our lives NOW so that we can look forward to it with some sense of ease, where possible. I will be sharing much more about what those actions might look like in future essays over the next few years as I do exactly that myself... Hugs, Jody x
Beautiful
Thank you! x
"... I can feel your power at my back." Your post is gorgeous and vulnerable. Thank you for this.
I'm thankful that Victoria (@carermentor) introduced me to your writing, and I look forward to reading more!
Thank you Sarah; I'm learning so much from your writing too. x
I feel this, but about my father. I didn’t like him alive, can I manage to find something to feel good about in his death? I’m working on it.
Tamsin - you might find Perdita Finn's book 'Taking Back the Magic' an interesting read... as she remakes her paternal relationship with a selfish, self-obsessed father after his death... x
Thank you for the recommendation, I will go check it out
This hits so close to home, Jody. Thank you for your honesty. My mother is still alive. Still a very wounded person who is actively hurting me and the people I love. I can forgive her for the things she did or didn't do in my past. But she keeps adding new things to the queue and that is hard. Interesting to see what this looks like from the other side.
Oh Robyn, I'm so sorry to read of your experience, and I relate to it at such a deep level. Sending you huge hugs x
Thanks.
Thank you for such granular honesty...and I think it takes courage to say "It is easier to love my mother now she’s dead.". I feel the same way...my mother died when I was 26 and I have spent my adult life healing, transforming that relationship that was quite difficult when she was alive, learning from her example how not to live, and finally embracing the positive qualities she gave me. Yes, the relationship continues and can be radically transformed. In a way my mother's early death freed me to become who I really am.
In many ways, I defined myself by not being like my mother... now she is dead I find that I am able to recognise that she had many lovable qualities too, buried in amongst her anger and criticism of me, and that helps me to feel closer to her in death. Thank you for sharing your experience too xx
Lovely piece. It made me reflect on my relationship with my Daddy. I wanted so badly for us to be closer, but neither of us was raised to show feelings and hug and stuff so it was awkward. Now that I am over 50, things are in perspective, and I think about all the hugs we missed. Thank you.
I'm sorry you missed all those hugs and that you longed for closeness that was so hard for both of you. Sending you MY hugs xx
This is such a wise and deep piece! Thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much for commenting and appreciating Jane! x
You are so right: Mother-daughter relationships do not end. This is such a wise, deep piece.
Mine is continuing to change and evolve, 2 months after her death... I'm curious how it will be a year, 5 years, 10 years from now...
My mom’s mother died when Mom was four. She worked hard at being a mom, trying to avoid passing on damage. Sometimes succeeding and sometimes falling short. She passed away recently after a very long illness. After grieving her decline for ten years my feelings at her passing were unconventional to say the least. My reasons are slightly different, but I am, like you focused on my mother’s new freedom and my relief that the illness that chipped away at our relationship no longer has any hold over her.
Also, strangely, the first time I tried to make a go of freelance writing, I knew Brandon Collinsworth a little bit.
Hi Holly and thank you for sharing your experience, and it's good to know that I am not the only one experiencing some kind of personal and creative renaissance after our mother's death! The last two essays I've written here in the last two weeks + the one I wrote 2 months ago, just 2 days after my mother's death, have felt more 'real' to me than anything I've written for a while... and the way that you, and others, have responded to them tells me that there is something powerful that wants to be expressed thorugh me right now. My mother loved words and books, and in her younger, less medicated years, used to write poetry - I would find scraps of them in the waste paper bin when I was a child. Maybe we are working together now... Sending hugs for that hard, hard, decade you allude to. Jody x
Beautiful! As someone who has also come from a difficult lineage, I often find more comfort in my ancestors, as well. It’s interesting how our relationships can change with them too, once they are on the Otherside. My father and his father were both hard men when Earthbound. Yet, now, I feel such a close kinship with them.
How fascinating - I find it hard to connect with my paternal line at all as, apart from my maternal grandfather, I did not meet any of them - but maybe that will shift in time, as yours has. @Perdita Finn's recent book 'Take Back the Magic: Conversations with the Unseen World' is about many things, but one of the big pieces of it is how her relationship with her father, who was a difficult, demanding and unsupportive man, changed once he died. It is an extraordinary book!
Interesting! Thank you, I will check out Perdita’s work.
She's here on Substack too x
Brilliant. Sometimes when one asks ancestors or family for help, they say, "Nope", but miraculously, the lineage and DNA of courage, tenacity, faith, and hopefulness bubbles up to the surface and there's an intuitive "I can do this", especially moving through and past and then onward toward emotional, spiritual, mental and physical health. Or maybe just one of those "healths". It's beautiful, the room you've realized. Thank you for sharing all that you do.
Thank you for commenting Mary. I do wonder if perhaps the things that 'bubble up' in you are the answers you were waiting for? Maybe it's not always words or a feeling? When I have tried to image the incredible hardships and joys my ancestors have experienced, how could I not have inherited both strengths and vulnerabilities?! My wounds in this lifetime have been the portal to so much... and although I sometimes wish I could have been one of those people who had a happy home life and went on to be untroubled adults (I have a best friend like this, and she's a real tonic!), I doubt I would ever have accessed my ancestral gifts had I not been between a rock and a hard place many, many times, from the womb onwards... Hugs, Jody x
As an only child with an elderly mother, with whom it has always been difficult, I found this to be of great comfort. I had never considered calling on my ancestors, but will certainly do so now. I am glad that you are now able to look back in peace and find solace. I am so glad I discovered your rich and honest writing here. Thank you.
Thank you Deborah - the mother daughter relationship is rarely a simple one it seems, but for some of us, it's a lifelong ache. I never, ever, expected to be at peace with my mother, but that was a totally unexpected gift of her dementia - her barriers were gone and she allowed a connection that had never been possible before. I hope that you can feel the wind at your back from your ancestors soon too. Hugs, Jody x