Dear MIL,
When you look at your grandson do you see your boy? You must. He looks like his dad birthed him without any input from me. Looking at the three of you fills me with contempt and questions. See I can't look at my son, your grandson, without seeing that little boy that stole my heart and changed my world 22 years ago. My love for my son taught me about the love of God, and for the life of me I cannot understand how you can have such a beautiful son of your own and not feel the same way.
Pardon me for being so bold as to suggest you don't love him. Who am I to judge? Perhaps you can explain...
I won't take the time to recant all the stories of the violence and the mental torment and the emotional abuse. I'm sure I haven't heard them all. And quite honestly I don't care to hear your side of things. I don't need to; I live with the aftermath.
I will say you succeeded in creating an incredibly responsible man. So responsible that he not only took your abuse as a boy, he takes it still as a man and returns to you only his best with none of his hurt. I live with the hurt. You raised a man that will go through hell and high water for you, receiving nothing in return. I live with the void. You taught him to labor to your unyielding specifications with no encouragement. I live with his dreams deferred.
Your boy is with you now, by your bedside, risking his job, his responsibilities, his health to care for you with no appreciation. And I will live with remnants of 428 days sobriety destroyed.
I don't blame you for being ill and I don't resent his being with you. That's where he belongs. However, I will never understand you and I pray for the grace to forgive you. Over the years, despite what I know of your treatment of him, I have only encouraged him to treat you with love and compassion. My heart tells me that mothers deeply love their sons and that you must feel that for your son regardless of what you choose to display. It's my brain that doesn't believe.
Each day I choose to act from the heart; with you and your son. I hope one day you learn to do so as well.
--DIL
Monday, January 27, 2014
Sunday, January 26, 2014
#1
My Dearest,
I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to reconnect with you. Our friendship means more to me than you will ever know, more than even I fully understand.
"But if that's true, then why did I leave you?"
It's hard to explain and for all these years I've avoided even trying. I am just beginning to understand how very selfish my behavior has been, and I am immensely comforted by the thought that you still want me. My mind races with thoughts that why I left doesn't matter, that my presence in your life doesn't matter and that sharing all of me will just cause you to run from me. I am battling these thoughts even as I write this.
The physical distance between us made it easy for me to isolate myself from our friendship. Even though I missed you terribly, I had become so incredibly self absorbed that all I could see was my inadequacy. Instead of taking the risk of sharing my mess giving you the opportunity to respond, I ran from you so at the very least I would have the memories of our friendship and a fantasy, if needed.
It's ironic, we inadvertently create the very situation we fear the most.
That's what fear is right?- false emotions appearing real? Even back then when we talked, I could feel it, rising up in me, slowly sucking the air right out of my lungs. I loved listening to you, I could provide support, even give advice but the moment it was my turn to be authentic...God I can still feel it now...the overwhelming anxiety. The only way I knew to handle it was to keep the focus elsewhere and to just not be known. But anxiety is unrelenting and it rears it's ugly head in unexpected places like in the gaps of my competencies or anywhere else it can snuggle against my confidence. My anxiety was fueled by my inability to be all you needed and as we grew closer, my fears got larger and I began to withdraw leaving me exactly what I didn't want. My life without my friend.
It's been a long time Dearest. My heart feels warm with the sound of your voice. Thank you for remaining. I didn't mean to hurt you. I did not recognize the breach of trust that I created. I was completely unaware that I was making a farce of our friendship. I know there is no excuse for my behavior and my acknowledgement does not suddenly erase the pain. But I hope our letters can begin to weave together a new friendship, an authentic relationship, and a closeness for the ages.
I look forward to hearing from you soon.
--Here's to new beginnings.
I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to reconnect with you. Our friendship means more to me than you will ever know, more than even I fully understand.
"But if that's true, then why did I leave you?"
It's hard to explain and for all these years I've avoided even trying. I am just beginning to understand how very selfish my behavior has been, and I am immensely comforted by the thought that you still want me. My mind races with thoughts that why I left doesn't matter, that my presence in your life doesn't matter and that sharing all of me will just cause you to run from me. I am battling these thoughts even as I write this.
The physical distance between us made it easy for me to isolate myself from our friendship. Even though I missed you terribly, I had become so incredibly self absorbed that all I could see was my inadequacy. Instead of taking the risk of sharing my mess giving you the opportunity to respond, I ran from you so at the very least I would have the memories of our friendship and a fantasy, if needed.
It's ironic, we inadvertently create the very situation we fear the most.
That's what fear is right?- false emotions appearing real? Even back then when we talked, I could feel it, rising up in me, slowly sucking the air right out of my lungs. I loved listening to you, I could provide support, even give advice but the moment it was my turn to be authentic...God I can still feel it now...the overwhelming anxiety. The only way I knew to handle it was to keep the focus elsewhere and to just not be known. But anxiety is unrelenting and it rears it's ugly head in unexpected places like in the gaps of my competencies or anywhere else it can snuggle against my confidence. My anxiety was fueled by my inability to be all you needed and as we grew closer, my fears got larger and I began to withdraw leaving me exactly what I didn't want. My life without my friend.
It's been a long time Dearest. My heart feels warm with the sound of your voice. Thank you for remaining. I didn't mean to hurt you. I did not recognize the breach of trust that I created. I was completely unaware that I was making a farce of our friendship. I know there is no excuse for my behavior and my acknowledgement does not suddenly erase the pain. But I hope our letters can begin to weave together a new friendship, an authentic relationship, and a closeness for the ages.
I look forward to hearing from you soon.
--Here's to new beginnings.
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