My adult son must leave my home, for his sake. I am coming to terms with this fact and beginning to trust that it will be the best thing. It is very hard for me, tho. I was wondering today, for the hundredth time, why it seems so hard for me to turn him away.
Then, it just came to me.....
My grandmother (Mom- we called her) took us in, over and over, during my childhood. I had an alcoholic dad and a codependent and depressed mom, and two little sisters.Dad would lose his job, and we would lose our rented home, and move back with "Mom".
She was a savior to us. She had an awesome old farmhouse on a hill- the happiest times of my life. When we would pack up and go there- being rescued- I could breathe a sigh of relief. I was oldest of three girls, and probably the most mature person in my home. The worrier. The fixer. The watcher. Usually, when we went there, my dad would leave, not sure why, i guess my mom was leaving him- that makes sense. he would come back sober, months later, to beg her to come back. and she would. My grandma was probably glad , tho she never made me feel unwanted. She fussed at us a lot, but we were kids.
Then, after my mom divorced my dad, we went back to moms- a lot. If we had not, we would have starved. that is a fact. my mom would not work. she did not want to drive, as she was so nervous in a car. Probably from all those wild rides we all had with our drunken dad- my mom screaming "Bruce, slow down!". She probably had anxiety, now that I think about it! Living with such an alcoholic must have been maddening. Anyway,,,
After the divorce, we lived with Mom, and our mom stayed in bed most of the time , with a "headache". Or reading her westerns. and smoking. How she got cigs is a mystery. no, guess mom got them for her. wonder who I take after?
my mother finally got a job, at the town bar
, and began drinking. she became a full blown alcoholic. we girls were left alone , in dangerous situations. sometimes , we often had nothing in the cupboard, and she would bring home hamburgers from the bar , when we would call and say that we were hungry. boy, she was just not right! once, in the worst place we ever lived , the furnace would get so hot, I;d stay up at night, to make sure that it did not burn the house down. I 've always had to worry, i guess.
Then, we would lose the place, or maybe my grandma would ask us to come back, and we would have her wonderful cooking, she would teach me things about how to take care of myself, and we would get to be kids. she gave us the only good times in my childhood. The only ones. I am so thankful for her goodness. I remember running through chest high grass. throwing pebbles up in the air for bats to chase at night. listening to the occasion cougar at night, they scream just like a baby! Moms scary stories, on stormy nightswere so exciting. sleeping in a feather bed, with a oil lamp for a night light. her wonderful homemade biscuits and gravy. ahhhh..
Some would say she enabled her daughter, but my mom was not capable, i swear to you. she was not able to take care of children, or herself. She had lost a kidney,a nd quit drinking, but not until after the damage was done . We all left home as quickly as we could get married. We did not feel close to our mom, tho now, i have compassion for her . I am sorry that she missed out on some good things. She died very young, from heart disease. alcohol and cigarettes will do that to you.
But , what about my grandma? would you say she did wrong? in taking care of us? she literally saved us. there are so many more things that were awful about our lives with our parents, and "mom" showed me what good clean living was. how to work hard. how to make time for relaxation, after the work is done.
My uncle lived with her too, a lot of times. He may have stayed since she lived alone in the country, but i think that often he did not have money for another place. then , he'd get married again, and move away.
So- I have this revelation. I think that it was so wonderful when someone helped us, it felt sooooo good , to be safe, warm, clean, and fed, and around someone who was happy and normal. I think that it felt so good to me that i am driven to give that same security -that peace- to my son.
However, i see the difference here. i know he needs his own life, and that his staying with me is so very different than a child who is in need.
I'm just saying that i have figured out why I have such a desperate desire to help him now. I know the pain, and i want to spare someone that terrible , sad, hopelessness.
I am thankful for this realization. It may help me to let go, now that i know where MY fear is coming from.
thanks for listening to this long, sad tale. I am thankful that I was able to share it. I hope it was ok.
hugs,
chicory