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Family of Origin
Hey, Cedar, or anyone interested in FOO (Family of Origin) issues. Cedar, WHY NOW???
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 657895" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Thank you, Cedar.</p><p>Why did she call, Cedar? What was her motive? What was she looking for? For this? To tell you this?Was she seeking to conciliate or to blame? Did she ask for forgiveness? Or compassion. Or justification. In what way did she take responsibility? Her part. Was that the whole point?</p><p>It is never enough what you offer. To be a shoulder, to offer a hand. The whole loaf or nothing, are their terms. Well-taught daughters of their mothers, there is no remedy that is enough, except that which is impossible to give, and still live.</p><p></p><p>She wants you...whether it is to consume you, be you, or co-opt you so that you no longer live as an independent, integral being. Support, being heard is not that what she wants.</p><p></p><p>My sister many years ago, severely fractured her arm. Walking her dog, she fell, when another dog attacked her own.</p><p></p><p>Hospitalized, she called me, crying. Wanting me to come to where she was, in another City, to leave work, to fly there to be with her.</p><p></p><p>I would not. She replied, you loved me once, when we were little. Why do you not love me, still?</p><p></p><p>I have never forgiven myself for not going to her. Looking back it was to finalize, concretize, what was to become a lifelong breach.</p><p></p><p>This had been, in retrospect, the last choice point our lives would offer. Every subsequent thing was to complete the course decided upon in that moment when I refused.</p><p></p><p>The thoughts behind the decision had been these: I was not her mother. I tried as a small girl to be her little Mother. Now I knew I never would, could or wanted to be the Mother that she had needed.</p><p></p><p>As much, I could not at that time forgive her for her many betrayals. So there. I had chosen for myself. For me.</p><p></p><p>I think I sensed at that time there would never be enough. What they want these sisters of ours is something more than we can ever give. And live. I hesitate to write what I really believe. That we exist, is too much. Or if I have gone to far, I will soften it: They want us to take responsibility, I think, for what never was or was, I am not sure. </p><p></p><p>Or blame, perhaps, blame is the word. The great reversal, your sister chose to abandon you. For six years. Yet you are the responsible one.</p><p></p><p>To have told the truth, is the problem here. You are not supposed to tell the truth. Even to yourself.</p><p></p><p><em>I...believe you, Child</em></p><p> What does this really mean, Cedar? These could be the accusations of my sister, of me. Did we leave or were we left? </p><p></p><p>There was no place at the table for me. If I was a little strong, a little happy or a little bit secure. Yes. Yes. To all of it. Everything.</p><p>_______</p><p></p><p>This made me laugh. I mean CHUCKLE out loud. Sorry.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 657895, member: 18958"] Thank you, Cedar. Why did she call, Cedar? What was her motive? What was she looking for? For this? To tell you this?Was she seeking to conciliate or to blame? Did she ask for forgiveness? Or compassion. Or justification. In what way did she take responsibility? Her part. Was that the whole point? It is never enough what you offer. To be a shoulder, to offer a hand. The whole loaf or nothing, are their terms. Well-taught daughters of their mothers, there is no remedy that is enough, except that which is impossible to give, and still live. She wants you...whether it is to consume you, be you, or co-opt you so that you no longer live as an independent, integral being. Support, being heard is not that what she wants. My sister many years ago, severely fractured her arm. Walking her dog, she fell, when another dog attacked her own. Hospitalized, she called me, crying. Wanting me to come to where she was, in another City, to leave work, to fly there to be with her. I would not. She replied, you loved me once, when we were little. Why do you not love me, still? I have never forgiven myself for not going to her. Looking back it was to finalize, concretize, what was to become a lifelong breach. This had been, in retrospect, the last choice point our lives would offer. Every subsequent thing was to complete the course decided upon in that moment when I refused. The thoughts behind the decision had been these: I was not her mother. I tried as a small girl to be her little Mother. Now I knew I never would, could or wanted to be the Mother that she had needed. As much, I could not at that time forgive her for her many betrayals. So there. I had chosen for myself. For me. I think I sensed at that time there would never be enough. What they want these sisters of ours is something more than we can ever give. And live. I hesitate to write what I really believe. That we exist, is too much. Or if I have gone to far, I will soften it: They want us to take responsibility, I think, for what never was or was, I am not sure. Or blame, perhaps, blame is the word. The great reversal, your sister chose to abandon you. For six years. Yet you are the responsible one. To have told the truth, is the problem here. You are not supposed to tell the truth. Even to yourself. [I]I...believe you, Child[/I] What does this really mean, Cedar? These could be the accusations of my sister, of me. Did we leave or were we left? There was no place at the table for me. If I was a little strong, a little happy or a little bit secure. Yes. Yes. To all of it. Everything. _______ This made me laugh. I mean CHUCKLE out loud. Sorry. [/QUOTE]
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Family of Origin
Hey, Cedar, or anyone interested in FOO (Family of Origin) issues. Cedar, WHY NOW???
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