My mother did not know how to forgive, and so I learned that I was unforgivable.\u00a0 If I did something \u201cwrong\u201d there was no way I could make amends.\u00a0 This resulted in some odd behavior that I see as shameful now \u2014 an example: I lost my cousin\u2019s bike and never apologized or offered to buy her a new one.\u00a0 I went into denial about the whole thing, disappeared it, made it not happen.\u00a0 It was only much later that I remembered several such incidents, and I fear there are more that I\u2019ve completely forgotten.\u00a0 I was so ashamed that I could barely look at them, much less try to make amends.\u00a0 Then I saw the movie \u201cMommie, Dearest\u201d where Joan Crawford\u2019s daughter apologizes for waking her during her afternoon nap.\u00a0 Crawford doesn\u2019t say \u201cThat\u2019s all right, I still love you, you\u2019re forgiven,\u201d she says harshly \u201cWell just don\u2019t do it again.\u201d Lights went on for me.\u00a0 I realized that when apology was unacceptable, there was no \u201cright\u201d action but not to have done it in the first place.
\nI remember two moments of redemption in my life.\u00a0 I was in High School and for some reason I don\u2019t remember, I was unable to write a paper that was due.\u00a0 I went to the teacher, Miss Sheffield, and told her I hadn\u2019t done it.\u00a0 I expected to be yelled at.\u00a0 Instead, she looked at me consideringly for a moment, and then said \u201cYou\u2019re a good student.\u00a0 You\u2019ll write it when you can.\u201d I was so relieved I wrote the whole paper in the next study hall.\u00a0 It was the first time someone had trusted my integrity.
\nThe second time happened during the time after Mother had broken her hip.\u00a0 We kids all went home in sequence to help her transition from the hospital to the house.\u00a0 I was the last one.\u00a0 By the time I got there she was in a hospital bed in the living room with a walker and a commode.\u00a0 Mama Greene, who had been taking care of us since I was three, was still coming every day to clean house, cook and wash up, etc.\u00a0 Mom was her usual unpleasant demanding self, and I survived by doing exactly what she asked me to without questioning or resistance.\u00a0 I was planning to leave on Friday.\u00a0 Thursday evening Mother suddenly said \u201cThis is a good time to call Mama Greene and tell her we don\u2019t need her tomorrow.\u201d So I picked up the phone and dialed Mama Greene\u2019s number.\u00a0 When she answered I said \u201cMom says she doesn\u2019t need you tomorrow.\u201d She said \u201cBut you\u2019re leaving and it\u2019s my last chance to see you.\u201d I heard the tremor in her voice and felt angry.\u00a0 It was OK for Mom to hurt me but not OK for her to hurt Mama Greene.\u00a0 I also hadn\u2019t expected Mama Greene to care about whether she said good bye to me or not \u2014 which is total blindness from childhood conditioning on my part.\u00a0 I said to Mom \u201cShe just wants to see me.\u201d Mom turned her head away and said \u201cHmph.\u201d Even now, some part of me wants to believe that she hadn\u2019t heard what I said.\u00a0 I hung up the phone and sat down.\u00a0 But I started to cry.\u00a0 Mother didn\u2019t even notice, so I said \u201cI\u2019m going upstairs.\u201d I closed the door to the guest room and called Mama Greene.\u00a0 I said \u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u00a0 I would get in my car and come over & give you a hug, but that would hurt Mom and I can\u2019t do that.\u201d She said \u201cNo, you were never that way.\u201d A huge load that I had carried for 50-odd years dropped from my psyche.\u00a0 Mother treated me like I deliberately tried to hurt her whenever I could, and I had taken it on.\u00a0 When Mama Greene said \u201cYou were never that way,\u201d I felt like I\u2019d been absolved by the Pope.\u00a0 The relief!\u00a0 This woman had known me since I was three, she had to be saying the truth.\u00a0 I told her I loved her and she said she loved me before we hung up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My mother did not know how to forgive, and so I learned that I was unforgivable.\u00a0 If I did something \u201cwrong\u201d there was no way I could make amends.\u00a0 This resulted in some odd behavior that I see as shameful … Continue reading