RECONCILIATION
Today I write not to provide an opinion, but to sort out some advice for myself. Here’s the background: I haven’t spoken to my sister in about 4 years. We weren’t exactly calling each other up every week the few years leading up to the estrangement either – it has been close to 10 years now since I’ve had a meaningful relationship with her. Almost 2 years ago, I also broke off all contact with both of my parents after years of what felt like a one-sided effort to mend the relationship.

Recently, I was at the library and happened to come across the book “I Thought We’d Never Speak Again: The Road from Estrangement to Reconciliation” by Laura Davis. I wouldn’t normally have given this book a second glance, but I have been picking up plenty of signs lately that makes me wonder if it’s time to consider trying to reconcile. I’ve grown a lot over the last few years and I’ll freely admit now that my version of past events probably doesn’t come close to how they remember things.

So I got the book and started reading. Right off the bat there’s a few things that are making me not-so-enthusiastic about this. There’s plenty of talk about “relationships that have been precious to us”, “sense of loss” and even this doozy: “Obsession, discomfort, and rage are the hallmarks of estrangement, and sorrow is its center.”

Honestly? This seems horrible to think, even more horrible to write, but I can’t remember a time when my relationship with my parents was precious to me. There probably was a time when I was really young, but I don’t remember it. Even when I was trying to connect with them and repair the relationship, I was doing it out of a sense of obligation. I knew I couldn’t continue on with the status quo, so it was either make it better or cut it out. Well, the public perception of cutting off your parents isn’t so great. It elicits strong reactions in people and brings down a whole world of judgement. So I made a go at bonding with them because I felt like I supposed to; that clearly didn’t go so well. It takes two to tango and I quickly tired of trying to dance on my own, so I wrote them a letter explaining my side and proceeded to cut off all contact. I hope what I said in that letter didn’t go in one ear and out the other. I do genuinely wish them the best and hope they are as happy as I am to not be putting up the charade any longer.

One other thing the book says is “the impact of estrangement is often directly proportional to the closeness of the relationship that has been lost.” Well, I guess I was never really all that close to my parents then. Yes, when the estrangement happened, I was very upset. I was upset about all the ways they had hurt me in the past and I wanted them to understand how they had made me feel. I wasn’t interested at all in hearing what they had to say in response; the opportunity to make amends had past – I was done. Maybe that wasn’t the most mature thing I’ve ever done and maybe I could’ve handled it better. I certainly don’t recommend anyone follow my example on this one without a lot of thought.

Nevertheless, the most prominent emotion I remember feeling after the letter was delivered was relief. Relief that I didn’t have to worry any more about them – or rather, my reaction to them - ruining every holiday and ruining every day or week I interacted with them. The biggest emotion I feel now is still relief, but in a different way. I’ve now delved a fair bit deeper into why I felt hurt and have taken more responsibility for it. That doesn’t mean they’re off the hook - that the things they did and said were ever justified - but it does help me move on. I am no longer bitter and there isn’t an ounce of me that’s looking for revenge. I think I now have a better idea of where they were coming from and I recognize that they were trying the best they knew.

And yet I still don’t feel the slightest urge to ever see either of them again. Perhaps I’m afraid that I’ll slip into old patterns. But I think I’m more afraid that they’ll slip into old patterns. And I can’t see any good coming out of that. I have no faith that they’ve changed or are willing to change - in fact I have evidence that they’ve only gotten more intolerable. I am no longer interested in trying to change them. It’s their life, they have the right to live it however they choose and no good ever comes out of trying to change someone else according to your own ideals. I wish I could help them because I’m not convinced that they are happy, but that’s not my burden to bear. Trying to shoulder that is more than I can do, it would only drag me down and accomplish nothing.

Besides, what on Earth would we do or talk about? In all these years, the only common activity I’ve found with my mother is housework. The only common discussion topic is swapping stories about health problems. With my father it’s a bit better: We both like to walk. We have similar enough careers to be able to talk about work. We both play the bagpipes (albeit not that frequently). He’s the one that got me into Simon & Garfunkel. Is that really enough to build a meaningful relationship? We disagree strongly on religion, politics, money, which sports are watchable, family structure, family life and career choices. We can’t seem to have a conversation without any of those elements entering the discussion - unless of course all we talk about is the weather. Which has also happened; a full hour of nothing but pleasantries and the weather. I question if there’s any purpose to having such a surface level relationship. Seems more symbolic than useful to me. I don’t even have enough time for all the people I want to be spending my time with, let alone to waste time with people whom I don’t enjoy their company – no matter any genetic relationship.

So no, okay, I’m not even remotely close to my parents nor have I ever been. It’s taken me awhile to accept that’s okay, but I’ve gotten there. Reconciliation? No, thank you.

My sister is a different story. We were very close when we were kids. There are years of my life where she was my only friend in the world and I miss her terribly. As much as I sometimes pretend I don’t, I do. I miss the connection we had. We’ve always been polar opposites, but somehow it worked - we always had each others’ back. And no matter the disagreement, there used to be nothing a game of backgammon or cribbage wouldn’t cure (even though she almost always won). We could be silly with each other.

Looking back, I think that’s where things started going wrong. We got busy and stopped making time for each other - we stopped playing games and being silly. We stopped having opportunities to connect, to check in and update each other on our lives. Before we knew it, we had each grown into different people. I had been through some life-changing experiences and God knows what she had gone through during that time. We couldn’t recognize each other anymore and I think we both made huge assumptions about what the other was going through based on very outdated perceptions. I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to explain to her what was going on with me and prompt her to give me the low-down on what was happening in her life.

I’ll admit I don’t know where to go from here. So I’ll keep reading and I’ll take my time. The situation is complicated because of other developments in the family, so it’s maybe best to wait for the dust to settle anyway. Wish me luck!

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.