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Family of Origin
Do the holidays bother those of us with little to no FOO?
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 672782" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Well I still don't know what to think about it, Serenity. The first night I spent with my mother after my father's death, my mother took that time with me ~ the first time we had seen one another since my father's death ~ to say the most horrible things about my grandmother. (My father's mother.) In years past, my mother would talk about her at will but it was a simple thing to deflect the conversation. There was no grieving my father, for me, with my mother. There were no sweet memories or even, angry ones. There was hour after hour of processing information about my grandmother. My mother would doze off and awaken and see me and begin, again. I remember thinking this must be something my mother needed to do to grieve, and that once it was out and over, she could heal. </p><p></p><p>This has never changed. Given the opportunity, my mother continued to say many of the same things. After that initial grieving period was over, I listened and changed the subject.</p><p></p><p>We had come nearly 2,000 miles to be there for my mother when she came back to the house she had shared with my father.</p><p></p><p>His death was never honored.</p><p></p><p>I have posted about that here, before.</p><p></p><p>Mine is such a strange family.</p><p></p><p>There is a brother my mother hates, too. (I have two brothers.) After our father's death, I gave this brother a picture of our father, a very nice picture, because my brother had no picture of our father. I told my mother I had done so. She was furious.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that something.</p><p></p><p>It's a complex game she plays, using one against the other with herself forever at the helm.</p><p></p><p>I think this is true.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 672782, member: 17461"] Well I still don't know what to think about it, Serenity. The first night I spent with my mother after my father's death, my mother took that time with me ~ the first time we had seen one another since my father's death ~ to say the most horrible things about my grandmother. (My father's mother.) In years past, my mother would talk about her at will but it was a simple thing to deflect the conversation. There was no grieving my father, for me, with my mother. There were no sweet memories or even, angry ones. There was hour after hour of processing information about my grandmother. My mother would doze off and awaken and see me and begin, again. I remember thinking this must be something my mother needed to do to grieve, and that once it was out and over, she could heal. This has never changed. Given the opportunity, my mother continued to say many of the same things. After that initial grieving period was over, I listened and changed the subject. We had come nearly 2,000 miles to be there for my mother when she came back to the house she had shared with my father. His death was never honored. I have posted about that here, before. Mine is such a strange family. There is a brother my mother hates, too. (I have two brothers.) After our father's death, I gave this brother a picture of our father, a very nice picture, because my brother had no picture of our father. I told my mother I had done so. She was furious. Isn't that something. It's a complex game she plays, using one against the other with herself forever at the helm. I think this is true. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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Do the holidays bother those of us with little to no FOO?
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