It took reading Mary Pipher's terrific Another Country (am 1/2 through) to see that I brought another key contribution - I speak intergeneration. For that, I thank Kevyn Malloy, Mom's incredibly gifted psychologist. She helped both Mom & I appreciate what the other was getting at - I came to appreciate the why behind Mom forever putting her own needs last, if she assigned them a place at all; she came to appreciate that it was okay, even essential, to give her own needs value.
Am button-busting proud to say that Mom had a latent natural gift for speaking so other generations could understand. One of Mary's clients was a nun experiencing panic attacks & memory problems - in her mid '60s. Her Mother Superior sent Sister Theresa for counseling, much against her will. At one point, an exasperated Mary blurted out that Sister Theresa had self-sacrificed herself into depression. The nun replied, "I was not brought up to do my own thing." (p. 96).
What memories that brought up - Mom & I trying to get off a very crowded cable car headed up Nob Hill. As she wrote about it in a 04/22/00 Mindwalker e-mail, We managed to wangle our way onto a packed cable car, but getting off near the Fairmount was another matter. One man finally said, "Lady, you just have to push your way through." Elsa said she practically collapsed when I said in my most genteel voice - "Sir, I was not raised that way." And a path immediately opened up to let me pass through and two gentlemen stepped down to help us off!
What an amazing moment - even as it happened, I was aware of being in the presence of inexplicable greatness.
It can be difficult for people of my generation & younger to understand older loved ones, friends & clients who seem to close off their emotions. It can be tough when kids of 70 & younger try to pry open an elderly man or woman's feelings, in the name of helping them get more in touch with their true self. They weren't raised in a "true self" world. The significantly older ones experienced the Great Depression, World War II, the Cold War. They were raised to make the most of what you had, to be loyal & look to the greater good, to soldier on in hardship & not dwell on difficulties. And NEVER talk outside the home about family issues - you kept "the secrets of the home" well guarded.
To many (most?) in my generation & younger, that strikes us a unhealthy. We grew up in a culture that preached being in touch with your feelings, with the importance of men connecting with their feminine side, of women not accepting being shuttled off into demeaning stereotypes.
How does someone of 62 connect with a mother who says about a serious problem or bit of difficult past history, "I don't want to dwell on it"? NOT easy!
Before I log off to bake up some Christmas shortbread, must share what was perhaps our greatest mutually shining moment in speaking intergeneration. Mom & I were at a women's retreat up in the Catskills, on a mountain right outside Woodside.
As she wrote in a 10/23/00 Mindwalker e-mail titled Time to lift the lid:
On the
first full day of the retreat, during a discussion circle, I reflected on how I
have been lucky to have an easy life. Now,
we had been discussing quite a few things over the day, so the young women had
gotten to somewhat know this Ancient One.
One of them just looked at me in startled disbelief and said, "Mrs.
Lockhart, your life was not easy - it was hard." ~ ~ That
made
me think and think and think - I am still thinking. For as far back as I
can remember, putting a happy
face on events has been
more important to me than experiencing events as they were. That was a
real ground-shaking thought for
this Gramster. Doing that has helped me keep the lid clamped shut on
things that might distress me, make me uncomfortable and sad. ~ ~ There
are
so many things that I miss about Papa that I typically tune out because
of how they make me feel, so many things about the life I had before
October 1929. Maybe now - 71 years later - I can lift the
lid a bit.
In Another Country, another mother & daughter - Mona & June (93 & 60) - had an almost verbatim conversation. June was shocked when Mona described her life as "lucky" (p. 107) throughout her life. Her daughter echoed Mom's friend's comments at Tonche - "Mom, your life was not lucky. Your life has been hard." (p. 108)
I am forever proud of how my mother handled her young friend's observation. It made her look inward. I like to think that I helped. When she told me about the exchange (we didn't know that was strictly taboo at a women's retreat, that you never share things said in your circle), it gave me pause. I knew what Gail meant, but I had an inkling of what Mom meant, too. Praise be, somewhere in the far reaches of my memory, I recalled A Fortunate Life, a book by A.B. Facey, a seemingly ordinary Australian who was anything but.
Inspired, I looked Mom straight in the eye & said, "Gail was right, you have had a hard life. And you are right, in that it felt, looking back, as if it was easy. Easy, it wasn't. And I would not use the word 'lucky' - you've been blessed, not lucky. Mom, you've been blessed to live a fortunate life."
Will always remember how Mom beamed at me - blessed with a fortunate life. Yes, she could relate to that & we were both sure that Gail would see the truth in it, too.
It didn't occur to me to think of what I came up with as anything special. Now, reading Another Country, can see how Kevyn made me aware of the importance of stepping back, taking a moment to consider what is said from a different perspective, in this case from Mom's. Her life wasn't easy, in the sense that most people have. It wasn't hard, at least not to her. So what was it? Fortunate.
I am fortunate, indeed, to be able to speak intergeneration. How to help other youngsters, kids of 70 & younger, have a better handle on translating elder speak? A good long ponder for cold winter months!
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