Dear Mrs. Bluth,
I have been in a very dark place for some time now and I know you must be hearing a lot of that lately, with a year of Covid-19 that has everyone depressed. However, with my issues, Covid-19 has only served to give me so much more time to think of the messes in my life and certainly supports my morbid, depressed state of mind.
Dysfunctional is a word I am very familiar with and it has followed me throughout my life, from my childhood, wherein I had very little demonstrative love and even less encouragement that I was anyone special or would ever amount to much. Sad to say that when I married, it was to a man who, himself experienced his own dysfunctional home life with much the same sterile, and on many levels abusive, upbringing. So, it should come as no surprise that love was non-existent in our marriage. I had no idea how one raises children other than the model I was raised with, so after each of our six children were born, I suffered emotional breakdowns that deteriorated my health. My husband was of little help, in fact, he often made things worse because he developed a great anger towards me. Were it not for a few relatives and caring neighbors, I don’t think any of my children would have made it to adulthood.
Love was a stranger in our house. There was little to no laughter or camaraderie between the children, more often than not they fought or distanced themselves from each other and as they grew into adults three of them moved away, and three stayed in the states. To this day they are strangers related by birth. The dominant atmosphere in the home was that of loud arguments between my husband and myself that often turned ugly in their verbiage. I became more and more physically debilitated which made things worse, because I became heavily dependent on the help of my husband and the three adult kids living at home. In truth, it took a small army of people to help me throughout the day and they became resentful.
By some miracle, three of my children who lived in New York managed to find life partners and marry. They found spouses who were all the things we were not, providing love and a safe haven in the homes that they built together and raised amazing children. Even though they each lived driving distance from each other, they remained as estranged from each other as they were when they were growing up. No one calls the other and visits were non-existent. I didn’t really give it much thought until I realized that my care and dependence fell squarely on my husband alone and the fights and arguments became a daily way of life. I also noticed that none of the kids visited or phoned and the loneliness started to become very large and palpable. It became heart breaking because I could no longer see my grandchildren, whom I love beyond life. It is through them that I began to understand what love is and what I had denied my own children.
But here is the reason I write. Three years ago, one son who lived here passed away. He was the father of eight beautiful children who adored him. The young ones do not understand where their father has gone and why he is not coming home and the two oldest are beyond devastated. My heart breaks for them. Yet, not one of my adult children has reached out to these nephews and nieces to try and fill the void. None of them have any desire to bond or comfort these orphans who are of our flesh and blood. It tears me apart to see how indifferent and uncaring they are, not just towards me, but towards their brother’s grieving children.
I am bereft that I am responsible for raising such cold, uncaring and unemotional children, that it may have been my fault for the fractured and estranged family we are.
Is there any way I can bring about any change at this late date?
Dear Friend,
Life is not an easy trip by any means, and some have it much harder than others. Blaming yourself for your inadequate parenting skills which left your children without some of the most fundamental tools of growth and maturity and caused them to become socially removed from each other, is quite understandable since you employed the same parenting methods that you experienced. There is really little purpose in looking back to see where and when the damage began, as there is little hope to correct it. However, something interesting shows up in your letter and that is that you have gotten to taste the feeling of love through your grandchildren. You have also learned to give love back to them and that is wonderful because now you have the ability to spread that love throughout your fractured family.
This will not be an easy task but lead by example by making the first move. You may face great opposition from your adult children, but you must become the driving force that will unite them. Those children that live within driving distance can and should be invited to your home for a chag or just a dinner so that the ‘ice breaking’ endeavor can begin. Also invite the children and wife of your deceased son, so that they can feel part of the family still, and get to know their cousins, aunts and uncles. Reach out to your children who live out of state and call them. Show an interest in what is going on in their lives and invite them home for a yom tov. So starts the healing process.
Like I said, it may not be easy after being splintered and alienated, they may be suspicious at first as to what your motives are, but no matter. You keep trying and hopefully, at some future juncture, you may see changes. Just as a constant drop of water will make an indent on a stone over time, so will your efforts be rewarded.
I wish you good health, strength and determination to help you achieve the reunion of your family so that you can reap the rewards of your labor. If I can be of any further help, please don’t hesitate to reach out.