I cry aloud to the LORD; I plead aloud to the LORD for mercy. I our out my complaint before Him; I reveal
my trouble to Him. (1 Samuel 142:1-2)
What level of fear,
or rage, or abandonment, or bewilderment are you in right now?
As some of you already know I grew up in the quintessential dysfunctional
family. I have struggled with the
challenges of dealing with my own struggles as well as the struggles of my
brothers and sisters as we have tried to make it through this journey we call
life.
As a child I was often placed in the role of being my mother’s
emotional caretaker at a young age. I
saw myself as a failure because I often fell short in this role. I often felt resentful,
inadequate, unlovable, and powerless. Eventually
I was marginalized as a person, demonized, and often placed in the role of the
family scapegoat.
With my Father’s death earlier this year I am extremely
concerned about my Mother. She has
always been very child-like and dependent and with Dad gone I reach out to her
every week with a phone call to find out how she is doing and ask if there is
anything I can do for her.
My sister Debbie and her daughters have been living with my
parents for years now. As my parents’ health declined she helped them
get to their doctor’s appointments, made sure they got their medicine,
etc. My father entrusted her to carry
out his wishes and I respected that and realized that she was carrying a heavy load.
One would think that this would be a time that we would
coalesce as a family. One MIGHT think
that if one was speaking about a “normal family.” Instead the fractures grow deeper in my
family.
When Darryl offered to take me along on his business trip to
Baltimore I was thrilled. I haven’t been
to Baltimore in years and since it was only a two hour drive to my parent’s
home from there it would be the perfect opportunity to spend some time with my
Mother as well as to see my children and grandchildren.
When I arrived on Friday, my sister said she was going to
take the opportunity to go to the grocery store and that was fine with me. It would allow me to spend time with Mom
while Debbie got a break. Dan brought
the kids over and we spent a couple of hours with her before Debbie got home.
I didn’t even think it odd that when she got home she
plopped down at the table sans groceries and got on the cell phone. I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water
before we left and I overheard her tell the person on the other end, “Yeah,
Cathy and her clan are over here now.
Ok. I’ll let you go. Are you
getting ready to go grocery shopping? Oh that’s right I called you.”
Immediately I assumed that the person on the other end of
the line was my sister Mary. Why it was
important to report that I was there with my “clan” I didn’t know but I tried
to keep with my promise of giving my family issues to God because it’s
definitely above my pay grade.
It was getting late and we headed out for some dinner. I decided not to give the report to my sister
but the Balkanization of the family begins anew. In this particular dynamic it is Mary and
Debbie perpetuate the dysfunctional behavior we grew up with by pitting one
child against another.
The next day the plan was to head back over to my Mother’s
house with both of my sons, all my grandchildren, and my brother Bill. Originally we had planned to take my Mom to
visit Dad’s grave but since Mom had just had some surgery done on her eye she
wouldn’t be able to go to the cemetery.
My brother Bill and my son Dan had felt that they had been
personally snubbed when it came time for my Dad to be interred because Debbie
arranged for it to happen at a time when she and all her girls could go but Dan
and Bill would be at work. Both had offered
alternatives but Debbie stuck to her original plans and there were some hurt
feelings. I guess I had hoped that there
would be some closure if we could all go there and maybe say a prayer or
something. I had even told Debbie about wanting
to take Mom there so there was no secret or attempt to prevent her from coming
with us.
Since Mom was not able to challenge we changed our plans and
decided just to spend some time with her.
I thought that would do her a world of good since the last time I spoke
to her she told me how lonely she gets. I
thought it was a good move all the way around.
Debbie once again decided to disappear not too long after we
arrived saying she wanted to take a break and go into town and go grocery
shopping. She said she’d be back in two
hours and that was fine with me. I didn’t
beg her to stay. I didn’t make it an
issue. I didn’t take it personally. I honestly felt she could probably use a
break.
Everyone wound up outside sitting and talking while I brushed
Mom’s hair and helped her when she required assistance. I was really having a good time. We talked about sports. We talked about politics. We talked about Texas and about Germany. No one said anything negative about anyone
and I felt the get together went well.
After all why should we only come together when someone dies? Why can’t we reach out as adults and find a
way to heal?
After a couple of hours Debbie called to say she would be
gone for another hour. I told her that
was no problem and when she came back two hours later then that I didn’t say
anything negative about that. As far as
I knew there was no problem.
Darryl invited my brother out to dinner with our family and
he called his family to join us. You
would have thought that there would be nothing left to talk about but we sat in
that restaurant for another hour and a half talking the whole time.
Towards the end of the evening I learned that Bill and his
wife hadn’t had a party inviting anyone over because Debbie had a big fight
with Bill. Debbie felt Bill owed one of
her daughter’s as well as herself an apology.
Bill claimed he never said what he was accused of saying so he wasn’t
about to apologize. Debbie was also mad
because Bill was friends with my son Dan.
This is a whole other crazy story which involves my nephew
bragging about the money he was getting for college and how he wasn’t even
going. He took photos of things he
bought with my uncle’s money. I had no
clue about this and neither did my son Dan.
My son Mike saw it and told my nephew he shouldn’t be putting that stuff
on the internet and how that was basically stealing. This got my nephew angry who then told the
nieces that “my son” was trying to keep them from getting money from my
uncle. He told them that my uncle was
going to cut everyone off because “my son” was running his mouth.
This turned into a free for all which not only had both of
my sisters calling my oldest son and cursing him out but calling me all kinds
of names and saying hurtful things about me when in actuality none of my sons
nor I had any such plan to reveal my nephew’s deception or try to get my nieces
college money cut. It was due to all
this craziness I had basically stopped calling my father every week for a few
months because he was taking sides and throwing my boys and I under the bus.
It turns out that when my father died my sister Debbie and
my sister Mary had decided that they weren’t going to call my son to tell him
my father had died. This was an attempt
to “get even” with Dan for something that was not of his making.
Yes it was hurtful to learn this. Yes it would have been easy to adopt a
get-even attitude. Instead I told my
son, “Let’s give this to God because he is much smarter than either one of
us. Neither one of us can make this
situation right. There’s just no way
that we can.”
The next morning Darryl and I had breakfast with the boys
and my grandkids and I hated to see it end.
We stopped off at the cemetery and stopped at my Father’s grave as well
as my brother’s grave and the graves of my grandparents. I said a quick prayer and I told my Dad that
I looked after Mom for him.
Since I had some time to kill before our flight I decided to
call my Mom before we left. My sister Debbie
answered the phone. She was very cold
and told my Mom the call was for her.
I told my Mom how glad I’d been to spend time with her. I asked her if she enjoyed having everyone come
see her. She said she did. We chatted for a few more minutes and I asked
if I could talk to my sister Debbie. I
wanted to tell her that I wished we could have spent more time together during
my visit.
Once Debbie was on the phone she tore into me. She said she “sees how I’m all tight with
Bill and all.” She then launched in to a
diatribe about how Bill had come to visit one time and didn’t offer to help her
with the yard work. She said that Billy
suggested that she ask one of Debbie’s girl’s boyfriends to help her so she
didn’t have to do so much.
She went on about how she’s documenting all of this. She’d documenting how she threw out her hip
helping Dad. “I don’t know if you
realize this but it’s in the will that I get to stay here a year after Mom
dies.” She told me.
Actually originally I thought she’d be there until she died
so it really didn’t matter to me. I had
written off any inheritance from my parent’s years ago. Obviously my sister thinks I’m waiting with
baited breath for my Mom to die to get my clutches on her estate. Come on now, estate? Really?
It’s a house. Big deal. I have a house. I don’t need that house.
Debbie dug right in there.
“Well when you vultures come circling around I’m just going to wave that
paper around and say nothing.”
Fine. Wave it. Big deal!
Again I could care less about the house but I said nothing because Debbie
was on a roll.
She told me that she didn’t know who I was coming over to
the house and telling Mom to listen to her and eat for her because that’s not
going to magically make things better.
She told me that Mom was bugging her about her compression socks when I
left. She told me I could have killed
her if I put the wrong ones on her. (By the way I didn’t put any socks on her I
just asked her if she was supposed to be wearing them.)
Then after her rambling martyr dialogue she finally told me
that she’s going to shut up now because she may have said too much and then
slammed the phone down.
I cried. I didn’t deserve
that. Mary hasn’t come down once since
Dad’s been dead but she feels that Mary is the only one who’s there for
her. She’s the only one she can commiserate
with and of course the one who is always ready to charge in on her high horse
as not so much as a hero but rather she runs rapidly to spread strife among family strife. In this role she can be malicious, vicious, and vindictive.
I prayed for God to help me during this time but I also
decided to pray for both of my sisters.
I told God that I will put my trust in him and that I will try to let
his will be done instead of trying to be “RIGHT”.
How have you been dealing
with all that? What’s been working? And what’s just been making things worse?
Sometimes I have retreated from the problems I am
facing. Sometimes I confront the
problems head-on. There are times when I
want to throw my hands up in the air while other times I want fix everything somehow,
some way. Obviously one can never truly
run away from their problems. Working
towards a solution and praying for GOD’s guidance is the only way to make
things better.
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