I loved my mother but she never was a safe person. This is a complicated dilemma for a toddler or a teenager. It complicated my whole life. It wasn’t until the past few years that a new level of forgiveness has been entered through an understanding of attachment.
My mother was a child of the Great Depression, and she lived with a ferocious tenacity to never suffer the shame of poverty again. Her mother was flighty and not quite grounded in reality, and never seemed to get things done on time except for getting to church.
Her father died of melanoma when she was thirteen and her two younger brothers were then placed in an orphanage while her mother worked as a social worker in the ranch country of Throckmorton, Texas. My mom was an adult way before she ever had the opportunity to be a child.
No wonder there was little place for me to be a child. I was allotted the privilege to be a child with my dad, but my mom expected me to strive to make life work just as she had done. Our home was never a place of rest, and she never ran out of chores for us to do.
After she married, she hit the ground climbing the social ladder of life. In the 1950’s it was the surgeon and lawyer wives that wielded their power, and she joined right in regardless. As a three year old, I accompanied her to philanthropic meetings at all hours of the day. I knew to be silent in the car and wandered in the yards of the hostesses during the meetings. At home I played quietly in my closet or outside in order not to bother my mother, who had so much work to do… all the way to her grave.
Forgiveness is like a shovel; it only penetrates as far as the ground will permit.
If you want to dig deep it is easier with soft, supple dirt than rock hard soil. Attachment allowed the soil of our relationship to be tilled. I have forgiven my mother many times for failing me. I have asked for forgiveness many times for not engaging her with the heart of Jesus. But an understanding of our attachment needs softened the dirt to allow the work of forgiveness to go deeper than it has ever gone.
The core desire of the heart is attunement–meaning for someone to be fully and deeply aware of what we feel, desire and need. This most basic desire seemed to me to be my most central flaw. If I could only erase the desire to be seen by my mother, then my relationship with her would be on stable ground.
As much as I wanted to say: “To hell with you”, I always, in fact, wanted to please her. As much as I resented her, I then condemned myself more for not appreciating her. How odd to think that as much as I needed to forgive her, I needed as much to forgive myself for being human. It was right for me to want to have her eyes and her delight.
I had the immense privilege of birthing two daughters and a son. I remember being infatuated with my own babies. I was happily married, yet having a baby of my own raised the bar for love. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was being given the opportunity to re-parent my own heart as I delighted in their beautiful faces.
Now, I am the grandmother to two stunning boys and two glorious girls. I not only get to play and live into their imagination but I also get to watch their remarkable parents delight in their children. Dan has said often that as much as we love our grandchildren, we love as much, if not more, watching our children parent our grandchildren.
Simply to be in the presence of Sassy as she works out problems with Elsa in a calm, kind manner is healing. To hear our daughter, Annie laugh with her boys as they tumble on the floor is life giving. To see the bond between Amanda and Grace in their cooing is enough to bring tears of joy.
I ponder what happened to my mother that caused her to scream in fury: “Dumb, Dumb Dora” if I got in her way or didn’t run fast enough to get into the car. What drove her to cut branches from a bush to beat me if my tone of voice was not correct?
I have the privilege of babysitting my three-year old granddaughter and cannot imagine her mother screaming at her. I cannot imagine her playing in a dark closet to keep from annoying me or anyone else. I can’t allow myself to imagine the dark shadow over her life if she had to hate the delight she is offered so readily and easily.
As I place my young self in Elsa’s exuberant life, I can only grieve for the equally beautiful young three-year old Becky who would have been a radically different young woman if my mother were like my daughters or daughter-in-law. It is this grief and blessing that enables me to look at my mother’s driven, confused, trauma-filled life and long for her to know how much I ache for her and want for her to know joy.
The kinder I allow my heart to be to a young three-year old Becky, the more I can grieve for the mother who had no idea how to let her be a little girl. And as odd as it may sound, the kinder I am to my mother who failed, the more I can let my daughters and daughter-in-law mother me through the care of their children. Forgiveness digs up the dirt to allow new seeds to be sown and old ground to become young again.
Becky Allender lives on Bainbridge Island with her loving, wild husband of 38 years. A mother and grandmother, she is quite fond of sunshine, yoga, Hawaiian quilting and creating 17th Century reproduction samplers. A community of praying women, loving Jesus, and the art of gratitude fill her life with goodness. She wonders what she got herself into with Red Tent Living! bs
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Becky, This is so beautifully written and expressed from your heart. Thank you. “We read to know we are not alone.” I feel less alone after reading this.
Dear Barbara, Thank you for your reply. Yes…it always feels good to feel less alone. I echo that back to you!!
thank you for sharing Becky, my own heart needed to read every bit of this, thank you, for your bravery to tell your story of healing and forgiveness to us.
Dear Anna, of course we know that this is the tip of the iceberg and that the stories are legion. Praise Jesus….I am free the more speak and renounce that the harm is no more….
Thank you, just…thank you.
Cindy, you intrigue me…. you are so very welcome.
“As much as I wanted to say ‘To hell with you’, I always, in fact wanted to please her.” This phrase pierced my heart…I lived the very same thing. My mother did say “to hell with you” with my grandmother and it bred much anger and bitterness. I vowed to break this generational sin, but it has been incredibly difficult. I am touched by your needing to forgive yourself for being human…it was right for that little girl to have the delight of her mother. Thank you Becky, for sharing your story and inviting me into forgiveness as well. Bring out the rototiller!
You are so welcome for my sharing one teeny part of my story. I hope you have had others pray with you that your mother, your grandmother have no power of evil over you now. I hope you have others that stand with you in the breaking of the generational assault against you. We have the right to have desires … to be human. Hugs across the many miles….
Becky, you add so much tenderness and love to Dan’s teaching. Your beauty continues to draw me and send me out with fresh healing.
Dear Laura, thank you for your kind reply. Thank you for validating my feminine voice to be good along side Dan’s teaching. May your healing never end may wholeness be yours.
Becky, this is so very beautiful! The writing, the vulnerability, the healing, your heart… it is all stunningly beautiful! I need this. I lost my mother when I was 15 and for years would never admit that she was less than a perfect mom. It’s hard to say for the first time the ways someone hurt you when they are already passed. Especially since my family still worships her. But I’m nearly 30 now. I have 4 beautiful young children who need a mother who mothers very differently than my mom did. The wrongs need to be named and grieved so healing and change can come. I recently was in on some very deep, personal conversations with my aunts who shared how my mother’s mother has brought so much pain in their lives. To hear from them the harshness that my mom lived under has helped immensely in my ability to be kind toward her. This article is very real and invading places in my heart that are in the throes of grief and forgiveness and kindness as well. Thank you SO much for opening up and sharing your heart with us. You are incredibly brave and beautiful!
Praise Jesus for the healing my writing has allowed for you. I give Him all the glory. I give the glory to my small groups I have been a part of that allowed me to validate so many hurtful times of my life. To not feel alone in the shadow of doubt that followed me so many places. I am learning to be seen and I am grateful for your aunts speaking and I cannot imagine the battle of losing a mother so young and the worship that happens when people die. Thank you for your sharing a bit of your story.You blessed greatly.
So much courage. And grace. Beauty from ashes; grief and blessing. What a tremendous privilege we have in knowing the maker of our souls to be strong enough, wise enough and tender enough to heal our hearts. Daughters mothering mothers into forgiveness of their terrible, traumatized mothers…..His ways are not are own! Bless you for sharing your journey, my sister.
Dear Kelly, my small groups, your kindness, and writing and reading and being heard are powerful weapons we have earned to fight our way to glory. Thank you for your encouragement and I am so happy you are coming to The Seattle School.
Becky, thank you for sharing your heart and your gift for words. How beautiful that an understanding of your human need for your mother’s gaze and delight brought forth deeper kindness for the 3 year old Becky and in turn allowed forgiveness to “go deeper than it has ever gone.” As I read, I felt so much sadness for the 3 year old who played in solitude in the closet, mingled in an adult world and didn’t get to squeal and twirl and make messes and simultaneously the joy and hope over the way you see and delight in your children and grandchildren. It sounds like you are a intense studier of them..what a gift. How lovely that watching your children mother their children mothers you…sweet redemption! As a mom of two young kids, it is also a great reminder, even on exhausting days, to notice and take in my children’s faces with gratitude.
Thank Rachel for your reply. Bless you with your mothering of two young children and for knowing and remembering the importance of your face to their face in delight and gratitude. What beauty and freedom and goodness that allows.
I am so grateful for your voice. You till much ground around you as you till your own. The part that struck me today was the need to forgive ourselves for being human; to go beyond allowing re-parenting to blessing it. I’m so glad you write, Becky. The world (yep, the whole world) needs your voice just as much as it needs Dan’s.
Thank you Timi, thank you. I appreciate hearing that the world needs my voice along side Dan’s. Thank you for your reply.
“If II could only erase the desire to be seen by my mother…it was right for me to want to have her eyes and her delight.” So much loss and blessing in your words! My heart was aching for that sweet 3 year old Becky, working so hard not to be seen, heartbreaking. And your sweet picture! How could you not just hold that face in your hands and smile and coo – as you watch your daughters do, and as you did for them? You have given me much to ponder as I consider my own mother, and where some softening of the ground is needed. Thank you, thank you!
Thank you Janet for your kind, kind words. That three year was pretty cute! (Younger in that picture probably). I really feel sad that so much we know about trauma was not in the thinking of my mother’s era. Yoga and counseling and understanding of trauma and the brain would have been so helpful to her, especially, while she was raising children. I do miss her….
Your story and mine coincide here in places and you invite my heart to so much. I too longed to matter to my mother. I’ve held such strong hatred of her. Lately I’ve looked back into her story and my heart is softening. Becky, I love the legacy of grandchildren you speak of so tenderly. You have such a hope to offer your littles. You hold your story and your little girl with kindness. You offer to your little ones what you so longed for and didn’t get and yet delight in giving them. The line in the sand is drawn. You are breaking the cycles of your generational family. You are creating new sweet safe space for your littles who know not only the delight of their parents, but the absolute passion you offer them. They won’t have to play quietly in their closet, or whisper. They are free to shout out whatever God has placed within them, knowing Mimi will cheer them on. I love this!!
Oh, Valerie, not that I would have ever wished this for you to have a story like mine….But it is a new way of being “soul sisters” to know that our past has a foundation of harshness that we have had to battle against. The bedrock of our past caused me to be so shy and fearful to speak. Thank you for saying our family legacy has changed. I love that. I love that it has and I love that I am “Mia” who delights and plays wholeheartedly with grandchildren AND adult children. More laughter! More Joy!
Becky, your write so openly, and it is often that your vulnerability both challenges and invites me to more widely open doors in my heart that have opened just a crack. I guess that is part of the blessing of the Red Tent, right?
Thank you Jenny. I appreciate your comment and I miss you! And, yes, it is odd to be this vulnerable.
Hello Becky. Melodie here. After years of work, I approached my mother on her 74th birthday, repented of my hatred of her, and invited her to repentance and restitution. Her entire body, but especially her face was the hard ground you describe and she flatly refused to own the monstrous abuse that she perpetrated. I confess that I still have moments where I want to pick up the phone and call her, yet the mother I long for does not exist in her yet, although I still hold hope for her heart to soften. I love that I can practice loving my friends and other people’s children and my own 8 year old little Melodie and find redemption and healing in that moments. Thank you for your words of truth and hope.
Oh, Melodie, that is so, so sad. I am proud of you for approaching her and I am sad she could not own her behavior. I am glad you are being kind to the eight year old Melodie and I am glad that you have your friends and family you can practice loving. I hope for a miracle for you with your mother. This is a tragedy….
Becky, I love your writing on forgiveness. Your profound words and analogy of a shovel and soil brought tears to my eyes. You have encouraged me to go back for my younger self and show her the kindness that she deserved. Thank you for sharing.
Dear Gayle, I am grateful you are going back to get your younger self. I have found it to be important to do so and it gives me more kindness to myself today. I hope the same is for you. Thank you for taking the time to reply.