an epiphany that rang True...

After resurrecting this persona, after jumping back into writing-writing, after the intensity that was NaNo, it's time to change the pace a little.

This blog was originally created as an outlet to rant (hence: the ranting willow), explore, introspect, about my past, my biological family, my upbringing, all in a way that hopefully would bring me some sort of closure, of relief, without having to deal with the affected parties whom I know would not be able to take such an effort.

One night during this Thanksgiving weekend, I witnessed my sister-in-law Linden and my hubby Elm try talking with a family member about another family member. Just ~having~ such a conversation is such an amazing thing to me - it can never happen in my family, what with one person practically deaf so the actual talking is a challenge, then add to that the fact that everyone's an expert at avoidance, blame, ...

It was sad, though, to see my in-laws' "pre-intervention brainstorming" attempt go nowhere. When someone is stuck in victim mode, when someone has learned helplessness, when someone is so convinced that nothing can ever change, not even one baby step can be taken unless that person is open to it. So despite trying different approaches, all valid and effective if the person had been receptive, the discussion went round and round and round yet went nowhere.

I was reminded of my own family: my parents. Back in 2000 or so, my mother had discovered evidence of infidelity (not the first time), and so my parents had a little war going on. Back then, I was still interacting with them - mostly my mother - but perhaps once a week, over Sunday breakfast or something. Upon finding out about the affair, I kinda pitched in my support for my mother. She reached out, wanting to talk, and so it was that she met me for lunch almost every day for weeks.

For the first few days, I let her just talk and unload, spew anger, speculate on reasons why, etc etc etc.

During this time, I shared my opinion of my father with her, and it's not a great one, what with him not having been around much due to golf, and the few times he tried to be a father was when he wanted to enforce a rule, some control, and I didn't appreciate his interference. Some things she said, though, about him, their history, made me wonder about how I was brought up to hate, or at least not have respect for him. She was never wrong; she was always wronged by him. Everything was his fault, you see. So, even as I lent my shoulder and ear, I kept in mind that that there are three sides to every story: his, hers, and the actual truth.

But anyway.

Never mind what version I was hearing, I knew that while she needed to vent, she also needed to move on.

So after a while, I started to nudge her off the venting and blaming track and onto resolution, by asking "Yes, you've said this all before, many times. Can't change the past. So what's going to happen now?", "Yes, but now what?", "What do you want?", "You need to move on from here. What do you want to do?" "You can stay and work things out, you can up and leave, divorce, you can do pretty much anything in between, so much you can do... so what do you want to do?", things like that. "Oh, I don't know!" she'd reply, then hop right back onto the track of how hurt she is, how rotten a man he is, my friends say this, my friends say that, etc etc etc.

And this went on and on and on.

Of course, the other affair was brought up a few times. I assume she once again said she had stayed on "because of the children" despite all the hurt she had been caused. Once again, even as I lent my shoulder and ear, I had my own memory of events relating to that event, which again cautioned me against fully believing all she said.

After all, I didn't want to be a pawn in any war between the two of them. Yes, I was lending my support to my mother, but really, I was more a counselor, a listening post, than anything else. Now, I've got great potential as a counselor: I can step back and see the big picture, see patterns that people usually miss, and I can usually see the solution, or at least a few good steps to take towards resolution.

The problem is, I run out of patience.

Fast.

I get irritated by people who, for whatever reason, are not willing to take that step towards changing their situation, and instead seem content to just whine about it. I know, it's a symptom of deeper things, but in the end, if you want to change, you will. After all the talk is done, after all the mental masturbation of exploring ideas and possibilities, after all that... that's thought & word... now for the deed. It comes down to just. do. it.

So, back to my mother. One day, sitting at yet another going-nowhere lunch with her, watching her she talked yet again about his behaviour, her friends' support, blah blah blah, it occurred to me that she had gotten herself a lot of "supporters" to be "on her side" of the war. The way she talked about it, though... something was off... And while her reply continued to be "Oh, I don't know!", I could see she ~did~ have plans formulating in her head, she just wasn't wanting to share, not wanting to move to the next level - whether it was just with me , or with her other friends too, I didn't know. Combine that with the other little bits of discordance I mentioned above...

... then it struck me.

She didn't want to move on.
Not yet, anyway.
Not with my help.
Not with me.
Not that way.

She was enjoying the attention.

She was enjoying being the wronged wife.

She was enjoying the attention she was getting from her daughter.



I was shocked and horrified at the thought, and yet this epiphany felt True, if you know what I mean.

And that, dear reader, is where she lost me.