I'm going to begin this post with a disclaimer: I had a fractious relationship with my father. He thought I was, in the vernacular of the time, "a bleeding heart liberal," unfeminine and uninclined to accept what he felt was "the natural order of things." Meaning that blacks and women should "wait" for equal rights and not question the white patriarchy. Because I so comfortably toss the word "fuck" around, he used to cluck that it was "sad" I had to "advertise" my "poor vocabulary." Toward the end of my father's life, when his career had crashed on the shoals, I helped my parents out financially. I am proud to say I never once said, "Your homeowner's insurance, gas and electricity come to you courtesy of my career as a writer and my poor vocabulary." (I'm not a saint; I was tempted. But I didn't do it. Perhaps because, at our core, bleeding heart liberals are compassionate.)
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Why this preamble? Because I'm about to write about a phenomenon I see all around me and don't understand: Sons who have cut contact with their mothers. 1) My oldest sister and her son. Patty has two kids with her first husband. Brent, the first grandchild on either side of the family, was treated as something glorious and retained his halo, even into adulthood. Patty and her husband had a very angry divorce and her ex was out of the picture. Brent struggled mightily in school. College was out of the question and he couldn't keep a job. Patty told him he had to enlist in the military. He made a career for himself in the Navy and this gave him the confidence to say "aloha" to his mother. He moved to Oregon with his new wife and doesn't visit, doesn't return phone calls. He has a daughter Patty hasn't seen. I don't know exactly what Patty did that he deems so monstrous. I don't get along with her either, so I don't judge. I'm just reporting it.
2) Kathy and Rick. My friend Kathy worshipped Rick. She referred to his blond locks as "a wheat field." She excused every instance of his bad behavior, even as he caused her grief. I recall her agony when he was suspended for going to school with a knife strapped to his calf. "Why does he have to do that to express himself?" I always thought Rick was an ass, but that's because when he was in his teens I was in my mid-20s and he'd flirt with me. I mean really, how many of your parents' friends did you hit on? Anyway, Kathy also had a daughter. When Kathy hit hard times financially, it was her daughter and son-in-law who (reluctantly) took her in. This is where the story gets complicated. Kathy's son-in-law and son became business partners. When the business fell apart, Kathy sided with her son-in-law because she had to. After all, he was providing the roof over her head. Rick felt betrayed and hasn't spoken to his mother or sister since. He lives within a half hour of his mother, now 78, and likely isn't aware that she's disappearing into dementia. I think this is tragic.
3) My aunt and my cousin. This is the one I know the most about because I've worked hard to stay out of it. Back in the summer of 2016, when most of my family was consumed with Cub Fever (we were en route to our first World Series championship in 108 years), my aunt/godmother was bit by the MAGA bug. That summer she and her husband went on a family vacation – Friday to Monday – with my cousin, his wife and their two kids (one finishing high school, the other just returned from college). The first night, she just couldn't resist being Trumpy. Her grandchildren were shocked to learn that Oma was, in their words, "a racist homophobe." The vacation was over by dinnertime Saturday. When the grandson got married two summers later, they invited her to the wedding – all the while hoping she wouldn't make the trip. But she did, and it did not go well. They felt she was unnecessarily provocative, she felt unwelcome and deeply hurt.
My cousin has told me how desperately disillusioned he is with his mother and her hypocrisy. After all, she's the one who made him go to Sunday School, the one who insisted he follow Christ, and she spews nothing but intolerance and grievance. I get it, of course. But while he, his wife and kids have ended communication with her, I just sent her a pair of books for her birthday and Mother's Day (she's my godmother). Donald Trump has cost us all so much already. Our humanity, our dignity, the separation of powers, and now our retirement savings. I refuse to let him take my aunt away from me. She's one of two people left on the planet who held me as a baby. I know she is confused and hurt and misses her son, but she has learned nothing from this and still occasionally goes MAGA on my ass. It's like an addiction she can't control.
4) My oldest friend and her son. She got pregnant the first time when she didn't think she could and consequently always thought of her son as "a miracle." "The most beautiful baby ever." Her daughter, born eight years later, was planned but somehow not so miraculous. She and her husband divorced when the boy was in junior high. She relied on her son too much. I told her so. He wasn't ready to be "the man of the house." He had his own anger/anxiety issues and needed a mother, not another responsibility. However I know she was doing the best she could and I am not judging. I just see it from his point of view, too. Anyway, long story short, he got married and moved to Philadelphia and is completely unavailable to his mother. He hasn't spoken to her since Christmas, even though he knows she's been in and out of the ER and the hospital since February. When his sister texts him for help, his responses are short and dismissive: "5150 her" and "Told you so." If he doesn't reach out to her this Sunday for Mother's Day, my oldest friend will be so hurt. I hope he surprises me and calls or at least texts her, but I doubt that will happen.
Back to me and my dad. No one has ever made me angrier. I can recall him literally making my knees go weak in rage. I regularly felt misunderstood and confused. Someone who was supposed to love me undermined me instead of supporting me. And yet, there was never a birthday or Father's Day that my dad didn't get a card from me. I didn't always sign them, "With love," but they arrived on time. I showed up for every (awkward) Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. When he needed financial help, I opened my checkbook. To be honest, that was more to help my mother. Still, as I said before, I'm proud that I allowed my father to retain his dignity even as I rescued him. As he lie dying in the hospital, I showed up to say goodbye and called him "Daddy."
So I don't understand these mothers and sons and their estrangements. I just don't. I do understand the hurt on both sides. I also appreciate that some relationships are so toxic and emotionally expensive you simply have to walk away. But in my life, that has applied to lovers and my older sister, Patty. I can't imagine amputating my parents.
Photo by Kelli McClintock on Unsplash