MOMENT OF TRUTH
Weeks ago, I shared with you part of my story of estrangement with my parents in the context of sorting out whether or not to try to reconcile. My conclusion was – and continues to be – that I don’t feel any hope that an attempt at reconciliation would bring any good. No sooner had I written this than a situation came up where I could either step up to the plate and interact with them in person, or run and hide. I stood up.

I won’t get into the specifics, but the gist of the situation is that they had to remove their possessions from a family member’s residence and I came in to keep the peace and make sure it all went smoothly. A strange turn of events to now be the enforcer for the little girl who could never stand up to her parents on anything! We were at the residence together for a total of about 6 hours. Everything went well – it was a bit of a miracle! I learned a lot by watching and listening. Somehow, I managed not to revert back to the scared little girl I used to be. It helped that neither of them really tried to talk to me. My mother did ask me how I was doing, I responded without much detail and that was that for most of the day. Nothing at all was said about how or why we haven’t talked in almost two years.

Some might be surprised by this, I’m not. That’s how things always worked in my family – the important things were never talked about. You learn what people are thinking through their actions, body language, tone and precise word choice. And thus, generally over-analyze every little thing until it blows up to something much bigger than ever intended by either party. It also means that everyone feels like they have to constantly watch what they say, don’t say, do and don’t do. Or at least that’s how I felt. Very rarely it would reach a climax of hurtful words, raised voices, or possibly some flying dishware. More often than not, the weapon of choice was silence.

On this particular occasion, it did, in the end, come to some heated words. I’m proud to say that there were precious few on my end however – and that’s why I say I learned so much! After they had everything packed up and loaded, the house of cards finally fell at a moment where I was alone against 5. What finally tipped the scale? A missing shovel. Petty? Absolutely! But it really had nothing to do with a shovel. It quickly deteriorated into who was treating who poorly in all this mess, although the words used weren’t quite so PG-rated.

I did stand up for myself and for my loved ones they were putting under the bus. But I did listen far more than I talked. For one thing, I quickly realized that they weren’t really listening to what I was saying. Nothing I said got through to them and it wouldn’t matter if I said it 100 more times in 100 different ways, they had their view of things and it was absolute. There was absolutely no acknowledgement that their may be another side of the story that’s different from what they thought.

For another, I was fascinated. It was the first time I could stand back and observe them through adult eyes and not be the paralysed child anymore. It dawned on me for the first time that they have really perfected the art of playing the victim. They truly believe it! They don’t see at all how their current situation is the result of their actions. They don’t take an ounce of responsibility. They also continue to expect to be treated the opposite of how they treat others and are outraged when they don’t get what they want.

“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional”
~Chili Davis

The conversation ended when one of their buddies piped up and said “you don’t know what’s happening in a household until you’ve lived in it.” He was implying of course that I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m still not clear on how he thinks he understands both sides better than I do, having not even heard both sides let alone observed years of interaction between the parties. But in any case, I surprised them by laughing and wholeheartedly agreeing. (In the middle of a tense stand-of, I was calm enough to laugh!) A caveat I would add though is that it actually takes more than living through it to learn from it. It takes observation, compassion, the ability to see things from another person’s perspective and the honest desire to learn from it.

In the end, I walked away confident in my own ability to step up when needed and handle confrontation. And by handle confrontation, I don’t mean send back what’s served nor sit back and take it, but control my emotions, have a much more constructive conversation and walk away when I’ve said all I can say and heard all there is to be heard.

I still hope not to see my parents again – at least not unless or until they grow up. Until then, it will remain much more productive talking to a wall. And at this point, there’s nothing I can do to help them grow up. If ever they do, they will have to come to that conclusion on their own. I also still don’t feel safe around them, like something could blow up at any moment, I have to walk on eggshells.

Now that the dust has settled a little, it’s been good for me to sit down and reflect. I’m very grateful on how it went. Maybe there are a few more things I should have said, maybe there are a few things that I should not have said, but I won’t dwell on the should haves. It was a big step forward for me, it’s helped my confidence and I learned a few new things. Listening helps. I wasn’t out to prove anything to anyone (including myself), which I think helped me step back and handle the emotions of the moment a lot better. I also helped out my loved ones in a time of need, and that’s probably the most important thing of all.

Margaret Bailey lives in Ottawa with her husband and two cats. She believes strongly that knowledge is only useful if applied and shared. She strives to be a light to all who cross her path or walk with her awhile.