Dear Mommy
I just sent my mother the following letter, with regard to her behavior over the Passover, as described here: Bomb-shell on a Leash. I thought I'd share it with you all. This is one of those extremely rare friends-locked entries. It took me so long to write this up, if only because it hurt like hell to write.
Dear Mommy,
I had considered writing this letter soon after Pesach [Passover], but thought it would be pointless. It seems I have to write it any way. As you think MY behavior is "unacceptable", I'll give YOU a demonstration of what unacceptable behavior really means...
Do you remember how, when FIVE years ago ( June 2nd, 2004 [I actually wrote Feb. 6th, misreading the date]), I sat down and told you the family "history" you had so long been in denial about? After you got through denying the whole thing, you said "Well why didn't you tell me anything, back then?" To which I responded that 1) I was certain that I HAD told you and 2) that even then I knew there was no-one to talk to in you. I had this vague naive hope, back then, that you might take some responsibility for your life, and take yourself in hand. Well you didn't. As I said, I was naive, I guess I alway am with regard to you, hoping against all past experience. So here I am trying to teach my mother something about yourself that I've known for most of my life. The last time this particular "attribute" of yours came about was this past Pesach.
I never asked you to SEND me on a trip to Bobbie [Yiddish for 'grandma', mom's mother], yet out of the blue, you came and dangled this in front of my eyes. I had already resolved myself to not seeing Bobbie ever again. But you heedlessly went and dropped this in my lap, on the holiday. If that was all, then nu, I wouldn't make too much of an issue about it. But no, you had to proceed and drag me through emotional hell for the rest of the week of the holiday! Initially you said "I'm sending you the Bobbie", then you changed that to "One of my sisters will get you a ticket from their [Frequent Flier] 'Miles'", then you changed your mind yet again, "I'll call Raisy, and she will pay for it with Bobbie's money", all of this over just that one three-day week-end. Of course you were hysterical, that I check my passports are in order (they always are, because *I* am a responsible adult), and that I first clear this with work. So I called up my bosses and made sure this was OK. [ Can you possibly imagine how much of a fool I looked, when I showed-up for work the next week? "Aren't you supposed to be in the USA?" Go and explain that my mother is a complete nut-case... ] Of course for the grande finale, you did not talk to Raisy, but to Bobbie.
This isn't the first time you've pulled this type of stunt on me (or my children for that matter). Time after time, what you do is go and completely from your own initiative, make a huge most generous promise, that you have NO ability or intention to keep. Raising hopes, that perhaps for once, you'll actually "be there" for us. A short time later, perhaps realizing what you have done, you amend this "promise", making a smaller one instead. You then string us out, hoping against hope, while one after another you make progressively smaller promises, until we are left with some token of the original one, that certainly isn't worth all of the bother and pain, you have just put us through. As a final touch, you then always manage to take the one course of action, that will ensure, that even this most pale imitation of a promise, never comes to pass.
You truly have been doing this for as long as I can remember. It is only recently though, that I have come to recognize the pattern. My sisters say they have somehow learned to not let this behavior bother them, as they feel you're just incapable of giving. I don't know WHY this obscene behavior of yours, affects me so strongly. Maybe my sisters never knew anything else, or maybe it's one of those differences between mother-son and mother-daughter relationships. What I do know is that I refuse to let it continue. I have already seen this happen a number of times with my older daughters, and they too have been hurt. Try and explain my Savta Sima [Grandmother Sima, my mother] so rarely keeps her promises. Thank G-d they have a normal grandmother to compare with. Luckily for them the physical bond with a grandmother is much weaker, than that of a mother. I seem to have to come back time and again, just to be hurt yet another time. I'm working on this compulsion of mine. What this really means, is that were it not for my children, I would avoid you completely. Trust me when I say that if you continue in this fashion, you will be one very lonely old lady, because your grandchildren will wizen up as well.
As I explained to some confidants of mine, it seems I can't ever meet you without getting hurt. To the extent that I was getting all stressed out four days before Pesach, in "anticipation" of seeing you. Well I've had enough of that. You always tried to say that Daddy vilified you, and "taught" us to look down on you, and that we were hating the wrong parent. Well today is my 38th birthday. Daddy died six days after my 19th birthday. So I've spent half of my life so far, with only you as a parent. What's your excuse now? Can you still blame Daddy almost twenty years later?? I think not. Through years of practice your cooking has vastly improved. Your behavior? Not a bit! You'll be sixty years old in a year, isn't it time you finally grew up?
I'm sending copies of this letter to Haim [her husband] and my sisters, so that maybe... making it harder for you to deny it ever happened, you'll actually do something about yourself. You are welcome to ask them if they agree. I'm certain they will, even if they won't admit it.
Your eldest son,
Shmuel Aharon Kam
Dear Mommy,
I had considered writing this letter soon after Pesach [Passover], but thought it would be pointless. It seems I have to write it any way. As you think MY behavior is "unacceptable", I'll give YOU a demonstration of what unacceptable behavior really means...
Do you remember how, when FIVE years ago ( June 2nd, 2004 [I actually wrote Feb. 6th, misreading the date]), I sat down and told you the family "history" you had so long been in denial about? After you got through denying the whole thing, you said "Well why didn't you tell me anything, back then?" To which I responded that 1) I was certain that I HAD told you and 2) that even then I knew there was no-one to talk to in you. I had this vague naive hope, back then, that you might take some responsibility for your life, and take yourself in hand. Well you didn't. As I said, I was naive, I guess I alway am with regard to you, hoping against all past experience. So here I am trying to teach my mother something about yourself that I've known for most of my life. The last time this particular "attribute" of yours came about was this past Pesach.
I never asked you to SEND me on a trip to Bobbie [Yiddish for 'grandma', mom's mother], yet out of the blue, you came and dangled this in front of my eyes. I had already resolved myself to not seeing Bobbie ever again. But you heedlessly went and dropped this in my lap, on the holiday. If that was all, then nu, I wouldn't make too much of an issue about it. But no, you had to proceed and drag me through emotional hell for the rest of the week of the holiday! Initially you said "I'm sending you the Bobbie", then you changed that to "One of my sisters will get you a ticket from their [Frequent Flier] 'Miles'", then you changed your mind yet again, "I'll call Raisy, and she will pay for it with Bobbie's money", all of this over just that one three-day week-end. Of course you were hysterical, that I check my passports are in order (they always are, because *I* am a responsible adult), and that I first clear this with work. So I called up my bosses and made sure this was OK. [ Can you possibly imagine how much of a fool I looked, when I showed-up for work the next week? "Aren't you supposed to be in the USA?" Go and explain that my mother is a complete nut-case... ] Of course for the grande finale, you did not talk to Raisy, but to Bobbie.
This isn't the first time you've pulled this type of stunt on me (or my children for that matter). Time after time, what you do is go and completely from your own initiative, make a huge most generous promise, that you have NO ability or intention to keep. Raising hopes, that perhaps for once, you'll actually "be there" for us. A short time later, perhaps realizing what you have done, you amend this "promise", making a smaller one instead. You then string us out, hoping against hope, while one after another you make progressively smaller promises, until we are left with some token of the original one, that certainly isn't worth all of the bother and pain, you have just put us through. As a final touch, you then always manage to take the one course of action, that will ensure, that even this most pale imitation of a promise, never comes to pass.
You truly have been doing this for as long as I can remember. It is only recently though, that I have come to recognize the pattern. My sisters say they have somehow learned to not let this behavior bother them, as they feel you're just incapable of giving. I don't know WHY this obscene behavior of yours, affects me so strongly. Maybe my sisters never knew anything else, or maybe it's one of those differences between mother-son and mother-daughter relationships. What I do know is that I refuse to let it continue. I have already seen this happen a number of times with my older daughters, and they too have been hurt. Try and explain my Savta Sima [Grandmother Sima, my mother] so rarely keeps her promises. Thank G-d they have a normal grandmother to compare with. Luckily for them the physical bond with a grandmother is much weaker, than that of a mother. I seem to have to come back time and again, just to be hurt yet another time. I'm working on this compulsion of mine. What this really means, is that were it not for my children, I would avoid you completely. Trust me when I say that if you continue in this fashion, you will be one very lonely old lady, because your grandchildren will wizen up as well.
As I explained to some confidants of mine, it seems I can't ever meet you without getting hurt. To the extent that I was getting all stressed out four days before Pesach, in "anticipation" of seeing you. Well I've had enough of that. You always tried to say that Daddy vilified you, and "taught" us to look down on you, and that we were hating the wrong parent. Well today is my 38th birthday. Daddy died six days after my 19th birthday. So I've spent half of my life so far, with only you as a parent. What's your excuse now? Can you still blame Daddy almost twenty years later?? I think not. Through years of practice your cooking has vastly improved. Your behavior? Not a bit! You'll be sixty years old in a year, isn't it time you finally grew up?
I'm sending copies of this letter to Haim [her husband] and my sisters, so that maybe... making it harder for you to deny it ever happened, you'll actually do something about yourself. You are welcome to ask them if they agree. I'm certain they will, even if they won't admit it.
Your eldest son,
Shmuel Aharon Kam