Category Archives: Tribute to Mom

Jan’s Talk on Forgiveness

Mom & Jan in New Orleans at Cafe du Mond
Mom & Jan in New Orleans at Cafe du Mond

When I was asked to speak about forgiveness for today’s service, I said, “Sure!” thinking to myself “I’ve worked with that concept, that feeling, that idea. I’ve had to learn it before.” Of course, since those lessons were in the past, they have taken on a somewhat depersonalized air, and I can even feel a little sense of superiority in my ego mind. “I’ve learned to do that,” says I.

As I hung up the phone from that conversation, mom asked, “Who was that?” I told her it was Pam and she wanted me to speak for a few minutes on forgiveness on Sunday. “Oh!” she said eagerly. “Where did I put that paper? Our minister spoke about that recently.” My immediate reaction was, “Oh great! Now I’ll have to listen to the ‘right’ way to go about forgiving – or perhaps that I need forgiveness for my words, actions, sins.” Mom didn’t find that paper, but she did stare at me intently and say, “I hope you and your brother can forgive each other.”

Yes, well. I’ve been trying to work with that one myself over the past month or so.

Recently, my brother told me to call him if I want to give him updates, tell him something about mom’s health and well being, her needs, my concerns with her, etc., and not to use email. “My computer is for MY convenience,” he arrogantly stated. I informed him that email is for MY convenience and I really don’t care about his convenience. He doesn’t live here, he doesn’t go to the doctor with her, he doesn’t see her confusion by day, or have to call 911 by night when her sugar drops and she collapses. He doesn’t listen to be sure she is breathing at night – or even in the daytime when she naps, or watch her wobble about on unsteady feet, or worry about her – nor does he see fit to contribute financially in any way to her well being. Yet *I* should concern myself with his convenience. My anger and resentment reared up like a raging dragon and I slammed the phone down. Nostrils flaring, flames shooting out of my eyes, I stomped around the house and roared. “That jerk! Him and his holier than thou attitude, his “my way or the highway” almightiness. His Little Lord Fauntleroyness.

But who gets so upset?                                   Me.
And Whose stomach is in knots?                    Mine.
And Whose head aches from the anger?        Mine.
And Who is the one causing distress to the very atmosphere in our home?      Me.

Isn’t it interesting that the one most impacted by this anger, resentment, and hurt, this protectiveness toward mom – is me! And who do I hand over the controls to my life through this anger and resentment? To HIM! The very person with whom I am angry!

Internet sources define Forgiveness as follows.

  • compassionate feelings that support a willingness to forgive
  • the act of excusing a mistake or offense (wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn)
  • Forgiveness is the mental and/or spiritual process of ceasing to feel resentment, indignation or anger against another person for a perceived offense, difference or mistake, or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.  en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forgiveness
  • The one I like the best – Forgiveness is a choice the forgiver makes to let go of resentment held in the forgiver’s mind of a perceived wrong or difference, either actual or imagined. …
    www.answers.com/topic/glossary-of-spirituality-related-terms-d-f

Wikipedia:

Yoga teachers Joel Kramer and Diana Alstead assert that faith-based ideals of forgiveness, while appearing selfless, contain implicit selfish aspects. They state that “when forgiving contains a moral component, there is moral superiority in the act itself that can allow one to feel virtuous.” They ask: “As long as one is judging the other lacking, how much letting go can there be?” They note that “Where the virtue in ‘moralistic foregiving’ lies is also complicated by the fact that it is often unclear who benefits more from it, the one doing the forgiving or the one being forgiven.” Not surprisingly, they note “that for many people, forgiving is an area of confusion intellectually.

Some years ago, through various teachings and readings, I determined the best way for me to deal with and understand forgiveness was in terms of reincarnation, which teaches that it’s the emotional impact of a situation that determines whether we have learned a lesson and can “let go” (of the baggage) and move on or not. I had to learn to Let. Go. of the intense emotion – essentially neutralizing that passionate reaction – in order to “let it go” – to forgive. I had to neutralize the emotional grip so that *I* could move on. I learned that we tend to repeat lessons until we have learned them. You have probably had similar experiences – where you go through a situation over and over again – until you “get it.” Different people, different place, same situation. Did you “get it” this time? I got pretty bored with going through the same things over and over again, so decided if I had to spend my life learning lessons, at least I could try for variety! Learn this one now – then Move ON! Get something different going on!

The biggest factor for me was learning how to let go of – to neutralize – the passion, the consuming emotion in a situation. Because that emotion – or attachment – is what holds us to that particular lesson. By learning to let go – to forgive – I have the chance to get out of boring and into a different lesson!

Yes, I’ve done a lot of letting go in my life – and had quite a variety of “lessons,” but this recurrent, this once again current – lesson is with relationships. For some reason, it seems relationships within a family are more challenging than many other kinds, perhaps because we form them at a very young (and impressionable) age, so they tend to be more cellularly intertwined than later relationships.

So, how do I forgive my brother’s arrogance, pigheadedness, lack of respect and care for my mother, and all those other judgmental comments I have about him? Of course, I am nothing like him. I’m not arrogant, pigheaded, stubborn, or any of those negative things, right? Ha! And even if so – self righteousness raises its ugly head and proclaims, “Of course, I’m right.” And “God is on my side!”

All of which is moot. And who cares anyway? What I DO care about is letting go of these fierce emotions that cause me distress and result in wasted time, wasted effort, and leave me with a blistering headache. I refuse to allow this to continue. It intrudes in my daily life, upsets my stomach and just flat out makes me sick.

The other day, I had a realization – there is a possibility my brother is afraid. He is a scared little boy who doesn’t know how to handle his fear in any way other than to bluster and bluff.

When he visits mom, it’s Little Lord Fauntleroy visits Princess Daisy. They preen and fawn over each other, flirt and laugh, and they fulfill an emotional need. He has always been “Mama’s little boy” – “hanging on mama’s apron strings.” He needs her approval and love. She needs his adoration and love. And they are happy together – because they meet each other’s need. When the visit is over and each goes their separate way, they are fulfilled and sated for a time. Mom’s cheeks are rosier after their visit, and she wears a smile – until real life intrudes again – in the form of a daughter who has become the parent. It’s quite sad, really, but there it is.

So, how do I forgive this arrogant Prince who has my mother’s love and adoration? How do I let go of my anger and resentment?

While living at a distance, I could easily say, “Mom prefers Bruce; and he needs her. Let them take care of each other. They don’t want or need me in the picture.” I was correct – then. And for my brother, that is still true. He would prefer I was not in the picture. But he also wants to continue to think of his mother as “always there” and, sadly, younger and healthier than she is. When she dies, I will have tears but few regrets. I am here, not just doing my daughterly duty, but learning to live in relationship with my mother as an adult and in ways we never imagined would be necessary. I am at peace with my mother’s passing. My mother’s son, on the other hand, continues to live his life in denial of his precious mother’s mortality. The shock and regrets he will face are more than I ever want to bear, and I pity him. By trying to control me, he perhaps feels he can control mom’s living. He can then blame me for her death because I’m the one who is here – and he will just be a man (or little boy) bereft – lost at sea with no one there to save him.

As you can see, part of my process for learning to “forgive” – to let go of the emotional baggage I carry around this relationship – is to try and understand the root cause of HIS anger and resentment toward me. Perhaps, if I understand his fears better, I will be able to have those “compassionate feelings that support a willingness to forgive.”

Perhaps, with some understanding, I might be ready to make that choice to let go of resentment held in my mind of a perceived wrong or difference, either actual or imagined. …      I hope so.

Studies show that people who forgive are happier and healthier than those who hold resentments. I have also found this to be true. However, I also know that letting go (forgiving) does not necessarily mean liking the person or even having anything to do with them. My letting go of anger and resentment toward my mother’s son does not mean I have to like him – or have any contact with him. Letting go – or forgivness – neutralizes the passion and consuming nature of anger – but friendship does not necessarily follow.

I have also realized that forgiveness, or letting go of the emotional baggage, is a selfish act. It really has little to do with the other person, but it accomplishes several things for me, the most important of which is making it possible for me to live a joy-filled life

My goal is to learn to forgive – to let go of those fierce emotions – and when that is accomplished, I can channel that passion, that wonderful energy into positive and perfect solutions for my life.

This talk was given at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Charlotte County in Port Charlotte FL on October 5, 2008.

7/21/2013

I found this “talk” today while looking through files. While reading it, I realized that my goal of forgiveness/letting go toward my birth brother has been achieved. Since our mother’s death, we had contact regarding her gravestone; however, once that was accomplished, there has been no further contact. It was clear that my mother was the single reason for any relationship between us.

While reading through this document, I focused on my feelings and thoughts, and found no emotion around this situation or the man who was born as “my brother.” Interestingly, I was shown a photo of him recently and discovered no emotion at all in seeing him – he is simply a stranger whose face I happen to recognize.

Letting go of those fierce emotions has resulted in a life journey I could not have anticipated when this missive was written!

If you are working on “forgiveness” in your life, I encourage you to focus on it for however long it takes to accomplish that goal. Find someone who has been on the journey to assist you as you take the steps and who will walk with you along the way. As you let go of the fierce emotions, with compassion for yourself, carry with you the awareness that miracles are waiting for you, just on the other side of that fierce emotional wall.

 

A Tribute to Mom

momjancafedumond.jpg
Mom & Jan in New Orleans at Cafe du Mond 2004

As some of you know, my mother and I were never friends. We were opposites in a lot of ways and we challenged each other throughout our lives.

The truth is – I never believed my mother loved me. I always felt she loved ‘her daughter,’ and she loved the concept called her daughter. I felt she thought she was supposed to love me, her daughter – because her faith and society tell us we’re supposed to love our children. But I never felt my mother loved “Me.” The Me who *I* am.

And I’m pretty sure mom felt I didn’t really love her.

As a young adult, I finally understood that mom didn’t love me in the way I wanted her to show it. Therefore, it was my responsibility to listen to ways in which she voiced her love and look at ways she expressed her love so I could recognize those words and actions. I could really only do that by looking at how she spoke and acted with others – and using that criteria, I always came away “the loser.” She never acted with me in the loving way she acted with others. And she never spoke to me in the loving way she spoke to others. And our conversations were often stilted and sparse.

It was quite a discovery to learn that mom felt the same way about me. She felt she couldn’t do anything right and that I was always criticizing her. She felt intimidated by me because I could say how I felt and learned how to articulate my feelings. She’d say, “Well, you can talk better than I can.” (in an angry tone). (huffy – hands on hips)

Yet my mother achieved a Bachelor’s degree at the age of 69! To do this, she had to write a multitude of papers – and she always received an A on everything she wrote. One time, she wrote a paper about her faith – justifying WHY she believed what she believed – for the first time in her life. And, of course, she received an A on this paper, too!

Mom became a lay speaker at her church, where she gave sermons and talks that were always well received. Someone at First Presbyterian Church recently told me, “Your mother sure knows how to pray. She always has the right words to say. She’s so eloquent.” So mom knew the right words with others …… but we never managed to find the right words FOR each other.

We had a long conversation when I planned my move to Florida. Mom needed someone living with her to provide a safe environment, make sure she got to doctor appointments on the correct days, took her insulin and other medications, made sure she was eating, and just to be there for her since she had begun falling. We were aware it would require effort on both our parts to make it work, but we were both willing to try.

My first six months here in Florida were the unhappiest months of my entire life. It appeared we would not be able to work it out. If it had been possible, I would gladly have moved back to the West Coast and found someone else to care for mom. Since I had given up job, friends, and my life of over 30 years to come here, that was not an option, and there was no choice for either of us except to stick it out and keep working on the lessons I/we had obviously chosen to learn. My best friend (who was caring for her own parents over this time) spent a lot of time with me on phone calls, listening, comforting my tears and offering strength and encouragement. Those first six months were Hell.

Over the next 18 months, we managed to smooth things out, a little at a time. I had the shed converted into an office so mom could have her space and the freedom to do as much or little as she wanted without me huffing at her about what she did, or didn’t do. And I had my space where I was free to be me. We both needed our separate spaces – we had each lived alone for quite a few years and this constant “in each others’ face” was just way too much time together. Providing some distance each day helped our situation immensely.

About 10 weeks ago, mom experienced severe back pain – worse than any she had had in the past. She couldn’t stand upright, couldn’t go anywhere, and was in constant agonizing pain. Knowing that narcotics caused psychosis in mom, the doctor prescribed a different type of pain medication – meant for diabetic neuropathy. This medication also caused hallucinations and mental status changes, and mom eventually had to be admitted to the hospital almost a week prior to her surgery date just to try and clear the drugs out of her system. After the surgery, she spent a month in rehab, and came home on July 11.

She was doing great! Home Health began visiting us, helping mom with showers and providing physical therapy. We were cruising! The only problem was a persistent diarrhea and occasional vomiting. Mom’s surgeon told her she was a first for him – the first time in his years of practice as a surgeon and doing this type of back surgery where the patient did not need narcotics after the surgery! Mom took only Tylenol for her pain. So he released her back to her normal lifestyle, including driving again if she wanted! And he granted our request for outpatient physical therapy to get mom out and socializing again. She was well enough to do that, and she was delighted to be able to attend church and see all her friends again. She loved the greetings she received and felt truly blessed.

Last Tuesday, mom went to lunch with her genealogy friends, but that night developed more severe vomiting along with the diarrhea. The cause was unclear, but it was serious enough for me to take her to the ER Wed morning for rehydration. She was admitted to stay overnight, and in that short time developed what we’ve termed “hospital psychosis” – she would go nuts when she was admitted to the hospital. I was told this is a common situation, especially among elderly. It was awful, and I promised mom I would take her home and not admit her to the hospital again. She was still hallucinating and her blood pressure continued to drop. Her doctor wanted to keep her in the hospital but he agreed to mom’s request to stop all medications but her insulin, and gave us a Hospice consult. After that consult, Mom and I chose to continue with Home Health for a little while to see if she could rebound – so we could pick up on the physical therapy and work on her strength. Sunday was the day of decision – to continue with Home Health or to switch to Hospice care. Mom made the decision for us by going Home to her Lord.

On Thursday, when I brought mom home from the hospital, her blood pressure was 102/58. Hospice came that evening and after our conversation, I called Bruce to let him know the seriousness of the situation. On Friday, mom’s blood pressure dropped to 72/48 and no matter what we tried, we couldn’t get it any higher. She refused most food and drank only small sips at a time. By Saturday evening, she was not doing well at all. Bruce called mom that evening to let her know he would be here the next day, and she perked up for a few minutes, but she was hallucinating pretty badly by that time. I kept telling her, many times, that he would be here the next day, hoping it would cheer her more and perhaps inspire her to strength and life.

Early Sunday morning, in her usual independent, “I’ll do it myself” way, mom got up without letting me know and fell. I heard a noise and found her sitting on the floor. We were attempting to move her in order to help her get up and back in bed when she died. It was sudden, and she was lucid right up until the moment of death.

After dealing with EMTs, the sheriff’s department, and then the crematory people, I had time to reflect and here is what I discovered.

Throughout the past 8-week process, mom had one stable thing in her life – Me. And she never “lost” me. She called my name when she needed help, whether I was there or not. She always knew my name and never forgot it, even when she had trouble with some other names. She leaned on me trustingly and let her head rest on my shoulder, allowing me to just hold her and kiss the top her head. She trusted me to be there for her and to do whatever I could for her.

On further thoughtful reflection, I also recognized the truth that Trust is THE major component of Love. And so, I knew. My mother loved me. And I had done exactly what I came here to do. I had accomplished my purpose and need have no regrets. I had given my mother a safe and clean environment in which to spend her final years, encouraged her to meet new friends and become more involved in her church and her genealogy, I had met and spoken with her doctors, establishing a strong rapport with them as her medical advocate, made life around the house easier for her in a variety of ways, and had just plain been here for her.

In the two years of our struggles, our bonding, our living with each other, I never knew this – until the moment of her death: That this has been the single most important thing I have ever done, or will do, in my entire life. And now I have the priceless gift of knowing that I was the one stable element in mom’s last days, giving her the love and care she needed…. and gaining the greatest gift of all from her – her trust and her love. This gift will be with me for the rest of my life, and I can continue to live my life without regrets.