This past week has taught me that however we treat others, whatever we do for them, whatever they do to us, will always be interpreted in the way that suits them at that time.
Since my children were born, I have kept some things in memory boxes. Even for my son who did not grow up with me, he now has everything I have kept since he was born, photos poems, letters, a teddy and a locket that I wore since that day, with his photo in.Memories about his father in case he wants them. He has all of this now and oneday might even be happy that I kept the things in the box.
My eldest daughter of whom I have written in my blog, had given me some of the happiest memories, up until that time in my life when she was born, me as her Mum , her as my blessing. I have saved so much, photos, momentoes, her baby book, her first teddy, her school reports. Cards and letters from her and so many of the things that I thought would mean something in years to come.All in her memory box along with little trinkets she saved as a little girl.
We are moving away soon as some of you know, going back to Wales. Coming back to Hampshire was a mistake, we realise that now. People told me that, warned me against trusting her but gave her a chance and us a chance of having her and my grandchildren as part of our lives. Something we had so missed out on over the years. We were missing Wales so much but felt it worth it to have family back. But hearing things from mutual friends that she had told them was awkward, hurtful and embarrassing, so I asked her if she had believed all the lies she had been spreading about me, back beginning in 2016 and was sorry for all the pain she had caused. She wrote and said, she did believe them and was not sorry for the hurt she had caused. She did not want to discuss that and shut us out of her life.
Some would say if asked before last week, ‘don’t give her the box’ but it was kept for her and I always said I would give it to her.
Last Monday we drove round to her house and my husband took the box to her door and placed it on the doorstep. She was at home and part of me hoped she would come to the door and I would have made myself get out of the car and go over but she didn’t. I am very unwell, as some of you know but I would have somehow gone over to her. Hopeful? Maybe.So we drove away.
We didn’t hear anything and I just hoped she had opened the box and read the letter, a very honest, painful letter about how I was feeling and explaining to her that even after everything she had put me through over the years, I still loved her. I didn’t like her or what she had done but I did still love her. I reminded her of the things she had done that I would not have tolerated or forgiven, if anyone else had done them, but how time after time, I forgave her. Took her back even though friends and family told me not to. That’s what a good Mum does isn’t it?I had believed, that was unconditional love. But apparently, I was wrong and have never shown her that.
One of the worst things, was the lies she spread all over social media, to my friends and other family and to my Publisher, that lost me my Literary contract, something I could have taken her to court for, but didn’t. Why? Because she is my daughter.
A couple of days ago, her husband came round , he didn’t knock the door and left the Memory box on the doorstep. ‘Like your husband did?’ you might say. Yes but we have nothing against him, he and I and my husband, always got on well so he could have knocked and we would have answered and been civil and he would know that. But. He left the box and drove away.He said, he ‘just did as he was told’.
Then the pain, the hurt that I never want to feel again. I opened the box and there was a ‘note’ addressed ‘Carol’. Not Mum. Carol. I couldn’t believe she could be so cruel.It reminded me so much of things my ‘mother’ would have done. Those who have followed my story, read my books will understand that statement. I was mortified. The note was full of lies and accusations but mostly accusing me of not ever having shown unconditional love, never showing that throughout her life. Accusations of hurting my grandchildren, when she has made it impossible for me to have any contact with them. Accusing me of writing things about her, here, that upset them and things that are harmful to them. I have always tried to stay in touch with my eldest grandson and have done, until a year ago when she made it impossible for him to have contact.Everything she has done to me over the years, the pain, the hurt, the lies the stealing, I am supposed to just forget and never speak of it again.
When someone does something to hurt you and you don’t know why, it is human nature to ask why isn’t it? You can’t be expected to just forget it, act like it never happened. You need to know why, so that you can make sure you never repeat whatever it was. You can only learn from it if you know what ‘it’ was.You need to talk about it, say sorry if were wrong and move on.Otherwise it will always be there, in the way of any worthwhile relationship, in your memory of the consequences of whatever caused it.
If someone stabs you, you hurt, you bleed. The wound can be deep and leave scarring. The pain and memory of that injury can last for ever. When the memory surfaces, you are back there feeling the pain an suffering the trauma. Noone says, ‘forget it, it’s in the past. The scar is a constant reminder of the pain, fear and hurt.
It’s the same with betrayal, family inflicting harm on you , only worse because it was family. I needed to know why. I needed to know what made her believe such obvious lies, even when she was shown,given the truth. What made her act the way she did, hurt me the way she did, but she wouldn’t discuss it. Guilt? Shame? Don’t know and never will.
Why am I writing this? Because it is the only way I have of offloading. Thanks to my daughter and my youngest sister, family are now estranged and so, she has done what she wanted and left me on my own. Alone at a time in my life when that can be scary. Thankfully I have an amazing husband but don’t want to inflict my pain on him…again. Writing down your fears, worries confusion is something I always encouraged clients to do. Write it all down, read it back and keep it until your feelings change and things get better.In my case, they won’t. I am an elderly lady now and so my time is limited. We were talking earlier, David and I about the future and how we are now doing things ‘for the last time’. The last phase of our lives. I have always tried to do right by people, family etc but have they always done right by me? No. Mostly my daughter. So here I am doing what is right for me.
Sorry if you find it ‘upsetting’ not ‘right’ talking about family in this way. But has any of my family thought of my feelings when they have written on SM. told other people their lies? No? Has my daughter done right by me? No .
When someone does evil things to you and then blames you, that doesn’t make it right. It is far worse when that someone is a family member and I have suffered at the hands of family, as much as I am willing to and am now fighting back!
My real upset is, I just wish she had actually opened the box and found her hospital tag from all those years ago, the lock of hair that I had kept carefully for so long. Her first photos, her first book and toy. Her recorder from school, little keepsakes that she collected as a little girl. Poems I had written for her ‘My Blessing’ amongst them. I just wish she had taken the trouble to look inside and find the treasures I had kept carefully for her for over 50 years. But she didn’t. She chose to send it back, knowing how that would hurt me. She just picked up on the fact that I had written about the pain she had caused me over the years in my goodbye letter to her.If she had read on……… But she didn’t. Her feelings towards me, her Mum, are clear and I have to accept that.
I now have the Memory box that I have filled for all of her life. What I will do with it I am not sure but for today, it sits on my desk and I try hard to remember the little girl who loved her Mum so very much. My Blessing.
Thank you for reading.
carolannwright 