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In a totally new place and need perspective? Cedar? Anyone?
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 665514" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Oh, no, Serenity. I am saying that instead of the love or joy or befuddled frustration I see in the eyes of friends, or of D H family, when they speak of their mothers, all I ever feel, all I have ever felt, as the tide turned and my mother was in a position to require a daughter's care and concern, was responsibility.</p><p></p><p>Responsibility.</p><p></p><p>Not joy, not that rich fullness that comes when someone we love is completing their time with us.</p><p></p><p>Responsibility.</p><p></p><p>Whatever D H would say, however angry he would become, I called my mother every night at 7:30 and talked with her as long as she wished and about anything she wished. I did not want her to face the evening alone. I wanted her to know I would call at that time, every night. She would be in bed, all tucked in, and we would talk about anything at all.</p><p></p><p>When D H would be so furious that I placed that call to my mother above anything else, I did not give an inch. But the word I replied to D H with was: responsibility.</p><p></p><p>Not love. Not joy.</p><p></p><p>My duty, as I saw it to be and was determined to carry it out.</p><p></p><p>D H would say: You don't even speak to her more than twice during the entire time she is with your sister. You cannot get through; she does not call you.</p><p></p><p>Why are you taking our time together to call her now, every stinking night, for two hours or more?</p><p></p><p>Responsibility.</p><p></p><p>He would say: Well go spend the night with her, then.</p><p></p><p>And I would be like, "Well, heck no."</p><p></p><p>And when I did spend the night with my mother? We had so little to say to one another, and the time was so tense. Face to face calls old truths.</p><p></p><p>That is what I meant, Serenity.</p><p></p><p>Responsibility; not joy.</p><p></p><p>How sad is that.</p><p></p><p>I feel guilty that this is so. </p><p></p><p>I wish I were stronger, better, were able to defy what it is and make of it what I want. But I know better than to let down my guard.</p><p></p><p>Not with my mother, and not with my sister. And, so said D H last night, not with my brother, either. D H said: What your brother has done is worse. He threw you over knowing you had gone to battle for him. He is a man. You are his sister.</p><p></p><p>What he did to you is more wrong than what your sister does.</p><p></p><p>Huh.</p><p></p><p>So, I am thinking about that aspect of things. I am remembering a comment Lil's Jabber made, about his own sisters.</p><p></p><p>D H is right.</p><p></p><p>That is how a man protects.</p><p></p><p>How a man protects ~ that is how he loves.</p><p></p><p>My brother does not love me, either.</p><p></p><p>Darn it.</p><p></p><p>When we were in therapy one time for daughter, that was the source of D H pain: That he could not protect.</p><p></p><p>That is how a man loves.</p><p></p><p>D H said something else too, the other night. We were listening to Donald T. And D H said: "Yes. Women are to be cherished. That is what they mean, to us. They are these amazingly human things with all kinds of softness and prettiness and deep emotional currents and they make life so rich a thing. Just to wake up in the morning with a woman creates a whole different kind of day. Just because you woke up next to a woman you love."</p><p></p><p>So here is a funny story.</p><p></p><p>I always go to bed before D H. So, he comes in and was kissing me goodnight but I was already mostly asleep. So, the next day I was teasing him about that because we do that. We tease each other about how it feels to be so married, and so aging. And D H was like, "So what? I always kiss you and etc. Then? He says: "Whatever Cedar. It was dark in there. I thought you were the dog."</p><p></p><p>Ha!</p><p></p><p>And the dog does sleep right between us.</p><p></p><p>So, there you go.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Not nonsense, Serenity. You are exactly right. You had to do that because you have integrity. <em>It was your responsibility. So, you did the right thing. Whatever her response, however painful to you. You did the right thing.</em></p><p></p><p>To do the right thing in the face of a mother's and a sister's determination to hate, whatever the cost to ourselves, that is integrity.</p><p></p><p>Turns out we have that quality, that quality of integrity, in spades.</p><p></p><p>Maybe, that is what they hate in us.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Like my brother did Serenity, your brother betrayed you, too. I keep bringing Jabber into this. I think he would never allow his sisters to be denigrated, or to allow his relationship with them to lapse. I do not think he would switch with the prevailing winds regarding his relationship to them.</p><p></p><p>My brother did.</p><p></p><p>So did yours. (Maybe. That is what it seems like to me. Another betrayal, at the witch mother's behest. And our brothers, our very own brothers, did not defend us.)</p><p></p><p>Oh, for heaven's sake. I am mad, again. "Pray for their peace and therein, find our own."</p><p></p><p>roar</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I cherish that about you. When I am stronger, I will be that way, too.</p><p></p><p>I am forever battling "That'll do, pig." Ugly in the mirror; taught that was the value that mattered. The way I look pleased my mother. It pleases me too, except that I am so often ugly.</p><p></p><p>Which can ruin my day.</p><p></p><p>Circle.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>There is no obligation <em>because of who they insist we be. </em>That is what I kept tripping over. How could I not do my part to create family? How is turning away, how is posting such rotten things about them ~ how could all this possibly be the right thing?</p><p></p><p>Because it is true, that's why.</p><p></p><p>It was never that they saw me the way they do through some fault of mine. Had I been less who I am? Had either of you been less than you are?</p><p></p><p>Chances are pretty good they would have been able to accept us then, boy.</p><p></p><p>But we are who we are, instead. We seem to function on integrity. What is the right thing. What is the responsible thing. <em>My feelings don't matter. To do the right thing. That is what matters.</em></p><p></p><p><em>We all have done the right thing by our families of origin and been kicked squarely in the teeth for it, every time.</em></p><p></p><p>The difference for us now (for me, now) is that I see both them and myself through my own eyes and not through theirs.</p><p></p><p>How sad is that; but how incredible a thing, at last, to know.</p><p></p><p>Whether they choose to see as they do because they were raised to it, or whether they choose to see as they do because that is how they found some sense of self and identity as kids (through identifying with the mother and through hating pseudo mom), they are making a clear choice, now.</p><p></p><p>And it does not leave me thinking well of them.</p><p></p><p>It's like I posted when I was beginning to see my sister differently: I no longer believe in her. But the thing is, back when I believed that of course everyone wanted to create family, I had to believe in her in a future sense because her behavior in the past and the present was like, reprehensible.</p><p></p><p>Serenity. I read so much yesterday about estrangement and mothers and sisters and daughters. The very things your sister has done to you were listed as possibilities if the sibling was actually someone who could be a real, physical danger. The stalking. The police. The venomous insistence on mental illness in its worst forms.</p><p></p><p>All of it was there, Serenity.</p><p></p><p>You are correct in putting any hope of relationship with this sister away for good.</p><p></p><p>She is even more destructive than my sister, or Copa's.</p><p></p><p>And you are such a sweet, beautiful woman.</p><p></p><p>Maybe, our sisters just got our mom's genetics. But I still think there are choices being made, here.</p><p></p><p>I was thinking about my sister walking with the Lord in righteousness regarding her relationship to me. In a way, it's like your sister calling the police. Just like the policeman came to like you very much and even, shared his stories of mentally ill relatives with you...maybe the Lord is like, looking at my sister going, "What?!?"</p><p></p><p>Oh for heaven's sake. I am mad again. Pray for their peace and therein find your own.</p><p></p><p>Better, now.</p><p></p><p>That is a stellar thing to know, that little prayer. It acknowledges my own vulnerability, and my powerlessness over all of it.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>It is a very correct way of thinking, and speaks to your innate integrity. To the person you are and always were, though, like me, and like Copa too, you were raised in an environment where integrity was not even on the radar.</p><p></p><p>Not even on the radar.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that a strange thing. To think about having grown up in a place like that.</p><p></p><p>No wonder I felt like that little girl in the bee costume, once I finally found the Benedictines.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>That's all they're saying, really. What is the right thing.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 665514, member: 17461"] Oh, no, Serenity. I am saying that instead of the love or joy or befuddled frustration I see in the eyes of friends, or of D H family, when they speak of their mothers, all I ever feel, all I have ever felt, as the tide turned and my mother was in a position to require a daughter's care and concern, was responsibility. Responsibility. Not joy, not that rich fullness that comes when someone we love is completing their time with us. Responsibility. Whatever D H would say, however angry he would become, I called my mother every night at 7:30 and talked with her as long as she wished and about anything she wished. I did not want her to face the evening alone. I wanted her to know I would call at that time, every night. She would be in bed, all tucked in, and we would talk about anything at all. When D H would be so furious that I placed that call to my mother above anything else, I did not give an inch. But the word I replied to D H with was: responsibility. Not love. Not joy. My duty, as I saw it to be and was determined to carry it out. D H would say: You don't even speak to her more than twice during the entire time she is with your sister. You cannot get through; she does not call you. Why are you taking our time together to call her now, every stinking night, for two hours or more? Responsibility. He would say: Well go spend the night with her, then. And I would be like, "Well, heck no." And when I did spend the night with my mother? We had so little to say to one another, and the time was so tense. Face to face calls old truths. That is what I meant, Serenity. Responsibility; not joy. How sad is that. I feel guilty that this is so. I wish I were stronger, better, were able to defy what it is and make of it what I want. But I know better than to let down my guard. Not with my mother, and not with my sister. And, so said D H last night, not with my brother, either. D H said: What your brother has done is worse. He threw you over knowing you had gone to battle for him. He is a man. You are his sister. What he did to you is more wrong than what your sister does. Huh. So, I am thinking about that aspect of things. I am remembering a comment Lil's Jabber made, about his own sisters. D H is right. That is how a man protects. How a man protects ~ that is how he loves. My brother does not love me, either. Darn it. When we were in therapy one time for daughter, that was the source of D H pain: That he could not protect. That is how a man loves. D H said something else too, the other night. We were listening to Donald T. And D H said: "Yes. Women are to be cherished. That is what they mean, to us. They are these amazingly human things with all kinds of softness and prettiness and deep emotional currents and they make life so rich a thing. Just to wake up in the morning with a woman creates a whole different kind of day. Just because you woke up next to a woman you love." So here is a funny story. I always go to bed before D H. So, he comes in and was kissing me goodnight but I was already mostly asleep. So, the next day I was teasing him about that because we do that. We tease each other about how it feels to be so married, and so aging. And D H was like, "So what? I always kiss you and etc. Then? He says: "Whatever Cedar. It was dark in there. I thought you were the dog." Ha! And the dog does sleep right between us. So, there you go. :O) Not nonsense, Serenity. You are exactly right. You had to do that because you have integrity. [I]It was your responsibility. So, you did the right thing. Whatever her response, however painful to you. You did the right thing.[/I] To do the right thing in the face of a mother's and a sister's determination to hate, whatever the cost to ourselves, that is integrity. Turns out we have that quality, that quality of integrity, in spades. Maybe, that is what they hate in us. Like my brother did Serenity, your brother betrayed you, too. I keep bringing Jabber into this. I think he would never allow his sisters to be denigrated, or to allow his relationship with them to lapse. I do not think he would switch with the prevailing winds regarding his relationship to them. My brother did. So did yours. (Maybe. That is what it seems like to me. Another betrayal, at the witch mother's behest. And our brothers, our very own brothers, did not defend us.) Oh, for heaven's sake. I am mad, again. "Pray for their peace and therein, find our own." roar I cherish that about you. When I am stronger, I will be that way, too. I am forever battling "That'll do, pig." Ugly in the mirror; taught that was the value that mattered. The way I look pleased my mother. It pleases me too, except that I am so often ugly. Which can ruin my day. Circle. There is no obligation [I]because of who they insist we be. [/I]That is what I kept tripping over. How could I not do my part to create family? How is turning away, how is posting such rotten things about them ~ how could all this possibly be the right thing? Because it is true, that's why. It was never that they saw me the way they do through some fault of mine. Had I been less who I am? Had either of you been less than you are? Chances are pretty good they would have been able to accept us then, boy. But we are who we are, instead. We seem to function on integrity. What is the right thing. What is the responsible thing. [I]My feelings don't matter. To do the right thing. That is what matters.[/I] [I]We all have done the right thing by our families of origin and been kicked squarely in the teeth for it, every time.[/I] The difference for us now (for me, now) is that I see both them and myself through my own eyes and not through theirs. How sad is that; but how incredible a thing, at last, to know. Whether they choose to see as they do because they were raised to it, or whether they choose to see as they do because that is how they found some sense of self and identity as kids (through identifying with the mother and through hating pseudo mom), they are making a clear choice, now. And it does not leave me thinking well of them. It's like I posted when I was beginning to see my sister differently: I no longer believe in her. But the thing is, back when I believed that of course everyone wanted to create family, I had to believe in her in a future sense because her behavior in the past and the present was like, reprehensible. Serenity. I read so much yesterday about estrangement and mothers and sisters and daughters. The very things your sister has done to you were listed as possibilities if the sibling was actually someone who could be a real, physical danger. The stalking. The police. The venomous insistence on mental illness in its worst forms. All of it was there, Serenity. You are correct in putting any hope of relationship with this sister away for good. She is even more destructive than my sister, or Copa's. And you are such a sweet, beautiful woman. Maybe, our sisters just got our mom's genetics. But I still think there are choices being made, here. I was thinking about my sister walking with the Lord in righteousness regarding her relationship to me. In a way, it's like your sister calling the police. Just like the policeman came to like you very much and even, shared his stories of mentally ill relatives with you...maybe the Lord is like, looking at my sister going, "What?!?" Oh for heaven's sake. I am mad again. Pray for their peace and therein find your own. Better, now. That is a stellar thing to know, that little prayer. It acknowledges my own vulnerability, and my powerlessness over all of it. It is a very correct way of thinking, and speaks to your innate integrity. To the person you are and always were, though, like me, and like Copa too, you were raised in an environment where integrity was not even on the radar. Not even on the radar. Isn't that a strange thing. To think about having grown up in a place like that. No wonder I felt like that little girl in the bee costume, once I finally found the Benedictines. Cedar That's all they're saying, really. What is the right thing. [/QUOTE]
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