2005: the aftermath

After my mother left our house in December of 2005, she moved back into the hotel in Cambridge, where she has spent well over half of her time over the past four or five years. Things were blissfully quiet for awhile. Then the letters sent to me at home and FAXes sent to my office began arriving.

Sometimes they were somewhat conciliatory in nature, but still self-serving and lacking in the ability to take any responsibility for herself: "I have no idea what I did to deserve this estrangement" is a quote which best sums up her tone in this type of letter.

But more often, they were accusatory and blaming. The most illustrative examples of this mode were that I had "abandoned" her and that I have a "character disorder" (I guess anyone who finally tells her "No. No more." must have one --- why else would they not put her first?).

But she saved the best for my fiance. He is, from her point of view (and again I quote): "a user, a loser, and an abuser". One of her friends called me in July 2006, at her bidding (this woman has since gotten wise, fortunately for her own sanity). When she left a message and I didn't return her phone call right away (because things have been so relatively quiet for a few months and I just didn't relish the idea of being drawn back in), she called back the next day, leaving another message that she hoped I could get to the phone and hoped that everything was OK. When we later spoke on the phone, she let me know that my mother had implied that Rob, very likely, was physically abusive of me; somehow, she thought, he was keeping me from answering the phone.

So the "abuser" part seems self-explanatory: pure slander. The "user"? Projection, I'm thinking (take a look at this post for a run-down of the kind of men she's been spending time with since the death of my dear step-father in 1991...truly lower than low, self-destructive, and dangerous to her).

But the "loser" part is the true crux of the issue, when it comes to Rob. The fact that he is happily, proudly a blue collar guy seemed to bother her no end (he's a city letter carrier with the U.S. Postal Service, as well as a USPS legislative liaison who's also worked as a letter carriers' union steward). The fact that he has an excellent mind, but chooses to learn on his own throughout his life as opposed to seeking advanced degrees, just galled her (he is an avid reader of biographies, 20th century European and American history, and anything he can get his hands on regarding current events, from devouring the Boston Globe cover-to-cover every day to going more in-depth with the Atlantic Monthly on a topic which he's curious about, etc.).

Rob won a full scholarship to the Massachusetts state university campus of his choice due to his excellent work in high school, but stopped short of completing his degree because he had no family support (his parents unfortunately just didn't see the point and wanted him to provide an income to the household). Further, he was headed for a degree in computer science, but finally figured out he had no interest in working in a cubicle for the rest of his life; he preferred outdoor work and working with people. He's got both now; that's for certain!

I am sorry if I sound defensive; living with her degrading comments and haughty nature has made me so. Hopefully it's primarily only brought on when she's involved, at this point; I really have worked on it; moreover, it's a trait I will be able to transcend as time goes by. Rob doesn't need my defense --- and hasn't received it, either, unless she's been involved. Since she never listens to me anyway, why, WHY did I ever bother?

Rob and I have been together for nearly four years, and I've never known a man truer to his word, kinder, more quietly competent, more humble, more thoughtful, or more buoyant. Since shortly after meeting me, he threw his back wholeheartedly into trying to help her: accompanying me to one of her New England homes to do clean-up work or get her car running, do some grocery shopping, etc., in preparation for her visit to the house; researching medical questions for her online (despite the fact that she's an excellent typist, she's never learned how to use a computer, despite a few aborted attempts since the early 90s, because she "just can't". Interestingly, she used to have the same defeatist mindset about learning how to use a cell phone, but eventually had success with it); making many runs (with and without me) to the Cambridge hotel to bring her things she'd stored with us after she'd returned from a trip to California or the Bahamas, or to pick up things she wanted to store with us before her departure on another trip (just call us the International Concierges); and finally, inviting her into our home in October 2005 for what we both viewed as a white-glove, silver-platter, tie-and-tails presentation of the inarguable fact: "mom, it definitely is finally time to get real and make some changes". He tried to be more than just a prospective son-in-law on good behaviour; he attempted to be a true friend to her, a commodity which has lately been in short supply for her due to her alienating ways.

But in her mind, she cannot focus on the abusive treatment she's heaped on others well enough to feel (much less express) true remorse. Instead, she fixes her blame-shifting gaze on the blueness of his collar and the abject disdain she holds for it. Safe and alone in her ivory tower, anything which helps her feel "better than" provides her with something the psychologists call "narcissistic supply"; she requires her fix as surely as any junkie.

Actually --- "prospective son-in-law" is the wrong term. She doesn't even know that we are now engaged (at least, we haven't told her). Nor would she be welcome at our November wedding, even if she were well enough to attend. She cannot, will not be held to account for anything she's ever said or done, so going back and saying "here is how you hurt me", talking it out, and then hoping (as one customarily would with a family member) for an apology and then a reconciliation --- none of it is possible. One must just absorb it all and write it off as the "price of doing business" with her if one is to continue to be in her circle. No healing is possible other than getting out of harm's way, then seeking the solace of kind and rational people.

I cannot pay the price of doing this "business" any longer. As it's been such a very long time since I've received real parenting from her or been able to call her my friend, the repercussion I feel in not being in touch with her isn't what I'd call "pain". Rather, it is merely silence, accompanied by the intermittent jerking of my knee, a reflex left over from childhood, an occasional (mercifully quick) wave of dread: "Won't she punish me for not thinking of her first? Isn't the screaming going to begin soon?". Appeasing her, doing her bidding (whether a mundane, simple task or a much more unreasonable one), avoiding conflict with her --- from the point of view of the little girl that I was, those tasks and that mindset equalled peace; sometimes short-lived, but peace nonetheless.

For the past many years, whenever I or my brothers tried to give her constructive criticism on a topic small or large, the most frequent response from her was "I need to be told what I'm doing *right*", or more often, "I need to be *affirmed*". Taken on its own, on a case-by-case basis, it's probably a relatively benign statement. But it was nearly a mantra. It has become clearer and clearer to me that yes, she *does* need affirmation --- to the exclusion of true friendship, love, or even simple, basic human concern for her wellbeing. The need for affirmation has crowded out everything else.