Yesterday my two brothers, not always allies of each other, created a United Front.
It was all for the trial and burning of a Witch, an Exorcism of Evil, a Beheading of an Enemy of the State of Brotherly Whatever. Of course, they failed.
Because my family has its share of dysfunction, or perhaps more than its share, there is this funny little notion that seems to be a prerequisite to nearly every encounter with my brothers, which is, “I love you, but …” And that is followed by descriptions and explanations of why the person being addressed (me) is unacceptable, inexcusable.
While I am drawn to, almost magically, so many people in the Real World, on Substack, and formerly on Facebook, that are speaking about Love, and new Enlightenment, and an upsurge in spirituality and compassion and all subheadings under that overarching concept, my brothers are currently absorbed in the assassination of my character. My life is chock-full of Irony. It always has been.
This morning I am deliberating about what to do, because this is all about my elderly and declining parents, besides me as an individual. I feel strangely disconnected to any pain it seems I ought to feel, but calm, and saddened, after experiencing an intense attack yesterday afternoon, in which it felt like every element of my Being was scooped out of my body with a hot, sharp instrument, laid out on a dissection table and then in turn, heart, mind, soul, and intent, hacked into tiny pieces with the Axe of Self-Righteous Judgment, as a punishment for being Criminally and Utterly Unworthy and Horrible. But it was their own cartoonish production, and I was left Whole.
It was almost funny, in the absurdity of the way both brothers took kernels of truth, and then distorted, misunderstood, misaligned, mistook, miscarried, and all the other misses that seem possible in the human existence. I was accused of foul deeds galore, and foulness of character, but it was comical the way they both grasped at anything they could think of that would demonize me, even pointing to my political opinions as a source of criminality, insanity… Brother Number 2 called me, not for the first time, “psychotic.” This brother almost certainly has his own “internal” issues… enough about that.
This all has come to an immediate circus event with Brother Number 1 visiting from another state, my plan to move in with my parents, Brother Number 2 being horrified by my plan, and the state of my mother and whether or not she still has the cognitive wherewithal to handle her own life and the care of my father and the upkeep of their home, and all that entails. Brother Number 2 screamed at me, “She’s no longer competent, and YOU KNOW IT!!!” which apparently meant that, if true, I am trying to manipulate her for malevolent purposes, as in, money. If it is true, then what both brothers did by demonizing me to her, and talking about her as if she were completely bonkers, was not only abusive to me, but abusive to her.
My two brothers, neither of whom have ever had ANY education in geriatrics, generally speaking, and certainly none in the area of cognitive decline and dementia issues, had no problem creating a very stressful and emotionally upsetting situation for my mother, and more for their own needs than hers, perhaps. When you are trained as a Caregiver for persons with dementia, you are taught NOT to involve them in emotional upset, even if it involves other people’s troubles, such as with the news on TV, or whatever— it’s a Big No-No. Plus the fact that it’s just so ugly to sort of pit the two of them against me and try to make her choose which of her kids to agree with.
Because of this event yesterday, my mother’s fear of losing control of her own life and having me, or anyone else, come in and take over her life, has been reignited, after a lot of work on my and her part over the past year, in a big way. She called during the writing of this post; she remembers the incident, and she is once again telling me she doesn’t need any help. (She later in the conversation lamented that she did.) This means I will have to soothe her again, perhaps taking weeks of calming that fear and offering help. There is no question in my mind, or in my brothers’ minds, either, that she does indeed need help. She will be 88 years old in June. She is the only current caregiver for my father, who is much further down Dementia Road. She is quickly exhausted with all the responsibilities.
None of my family are innocent of dysfunction. That said, what was done to me yesterday felt like Character Rape and Attempted Murder. I was not allowed to defend myself, nothing I said was taken as even having a possibility of being true, but was scoffed and sneered at; and they could shout me down louder and more angrily than I could respond. Two bullies, posing as Prosecutors, Jury, Judge, and Executioner. How conveeeenient.
I was told that basically everything about me was a fraud: I left my own growing and thriving business, large social network, and home of 25 years in the San Francisco Bay Area back in 2015 to move to an economically depressed small town in Western Washington with a high population of retirees and little other business than grocery stores, fast food, low-grade restaurants, a bowling alley, a couple of farm supply stores, a pet supply store… (you get the idea), with the sole purpose of ripping off my parents and cheating my brothers out of “their inheritance,” ie, my parents’ money. I was told I am a thief and an abuser and a fraud.
I feel pretty sure had I gone to live in Seattle, or perhaps even Gig Harbor, down the road half an hours’ drive, I would have found something more appealing. But I felt I should be in the same town as my parents. That was probably a less-than-helpful assumption. I had a hell of a time finding a decent job in Port Orchard. It mystified me for a long time, because I am a very capable, educated, intelligent person! (Dammit!) But after a while, I realized that this small town mostly wanted minimum-wage workers for very mediocre jobs, and not only was I very over-qualified, over 50, and from (gasp!!) CALIFORNIA, too (major sin!)!! (Texas, way back, for long years, and Seattle waaay back, at the start!) So, having some years of un-licensed caregiving already, I decided to go that route and worked another five years as a licensed Caregiver, so to be fully educated when and if the time came to do this for my parents. It seemed like a logical and reasonable choice. It’s been a long slog. I quit doing this work back in August of 2021, and have been up and down with finding long-term employment, mostly living extremely frugally, and picking up odd jobs here and there.
But the word “Caregiver” on my résumé proved to be almost a curse, when trying to work outside this vocation. It’s so loaded, and such a stigma, that when I’ve been introduced to a stranger and that word came up, there was often a visible change in the person’s demeanor— I am not kidding! There MUST be something wrong with you (you’re an idiot) if you’re a Caregiver!!! I will say this for myself: My ego is quite strong and level-headed, or I would have never become a Caregiver, for any reason. So I had to explain myself on my resume, which would have gotten me several jobs, if they hadn’t been in Seattle or somewhere pretty far away… Sigh.
Brother One very scathingly made the announcement to me yesterday that my job as a Caregiver amounted to little more than, and I’m seriously, directly quoting, “sitting around in people’s houses.” (It’s actually an exhausting job, physically and emotionally— not always, every moment, but generally speaking.) This is just one example of how my brothers, in their infinite ignorance, try to tear me down. No, not the first time by any means, though since Covid in particular, it is so much more spiteful, cruel, and just downright irrational.
The comparison of the un- or misinformed hysteria of many people over the Covid issues is very much akin to the un- or misinformed hysteria on the part of my siblings, of what appears to be the crudest sort of elements: Greed, Suspicion, and Jealousy— But whatever this hysteria is actually composed of, it is based in Fear. It wasn’t so much the laughable claims they made. It was the venom, the contempt, the vicious way they did their Dance of Death By Many Cuts.
But here I am, living a life filled with ironies, some unhappy ones, and some hilarious ones, and somehow, after two years of trying very hard to understand the dynamics between myself and my mother (a long-time relationship of misunderstanding and friction and love) in a very new way, I am detached. Again, I look to the Covid Experience. Because somehow, this is all connected.
Would I have, before Covid came along, become so much more spiritually aware? Maybe. Would I have learned, before Covid, by repeatedly asking for enlightenment, practicing mindfulness, practicing gratitude, that I was somehow triggering my mother’s self-protective impulses? Likely, I feel. But Covid does seem to have accelerated the whole world’s spiritual unfolding. It feels like I am riding a wave, as an individual, and also as part of a planet-wide Surfers of The Rising Spirits, and things are somehow becoming more clear, more defined, and more comprehensible to me. I may not wish to be in the company of my brothers, but I also feel that I can now view their behavior from outside my own emotional baggage. This is new!
I find myself not so much angry with my brothers, yes, I was, but that faded by the time I went to bed last night— that fact alone is a new experience, but I am more saddened, and surprised, than angry. Today, I feel that what I need to do, the action I need to take, is to trust the Universe to communicate to me the Way. I do trust it now, for maybe the past six months or so. My fear is gone. I feel that I can accept whatever comes— if I have to leave this family for good, then I will, though I know it will be painful if that happens. My life’s lesson, it becomes more and more clear, is to let go, learn that I cannot save anyone unless they WANT me to save them, and Let Love Rule. And if my presence is not helping, then I will go, even if that seems like admitting something false. If my mother wants me to be her caregiver, then I will try to do that— and I will take whatever steps I need to take to protect her and take good care of her and my father. But I am not determined to have this particular outcome no matter what. I am not determined that all must happen MY way.
Family relationships are pretty damn complex, are they not?! Mothers and daughters, fathers and sons… Who can say they haven’t had some kind of conflict in this area? And yet, underneath all that complexity is simplicity, waiting to be discovered. I spent much time trying to figure out how my mother could be SO LOVING to me sometimes, and so abusive at other times. I think I understand much more about that now than I did two years ago, because I have asked for guidance and not just for my own ego edification. It’s so simple, it makes me laugh now, and want to hug her up... She is trying to PROTECT HERSELF. Protect her autonomy, her dignity, her value, her ability to CHOOSE… Her sense of who she is… It’s a very understandable thing, really.
And knowing that simple thing, I am able to reignite my compassion, and put the hurt, the feeling that she is deliberately trying to hurt ME, where it belongs. Same for my brothers, although their behavior suggests more malevolence, but… I’m not going to judge them. Just avoid them whenever possible! The saying I’ve heard, over and over and over in my life: “Consider the source,” is one my mother has said to me repeatedly. And the more simplified version, “It’s their stuff, it’s not about you.” ALL THE ANSWERS ARE RIGHT IN FRONT OF US, almost tugging on our sleeves, waiting for us to cotton on. I am so thankful for this breakthrough of Love over Fear. It makes my heart swell. I GET IT. Praise the… Love! Hey, I said I was feeling more spiritual, not religious, fer cryin’ out loud. ; )
Oh, the hard work is not OVER!!! I’ve been “getting it” for at least a couple of years now, in a very conscious way, and it’s still WORK— but with far less trauma, anguish, or feeling victimized. With family, all those long-laid tracks of that Family Dysfunction Train… That closeness coming from growing up with people, that familiarity, it lends itself easily to a feeling of being entitled to put others in the family “in their place.” We’ve all heard it: “I know you. You’re ____________.” It’s damn hard to get off that locomotive. But I’m hangin’ off the rails of the caboose. Let me fly, Love, let me fly. Because if we understand the Way of Love, and we truly DO know someone, we know better than to think we can judge them, or worse yet, feel we have the right to do so.
What’s so funny about Peace, Love and Understanding? —Elvis Costello
All i can say is that in these trying times it helps to not see it as spiritual and start seeing it as practical. The whole spiritual thing is exactly what disconnected me from life, always trying to do the right thing which will be judged as you have been by your siblings.
But in practicality you see that there's good and bad to every situation.
I find it to be the real religion of nature. No need for lofty goals but life and death.
And it gives me peace to see it that way, while everyone else is going nuts trying to do the right thing at the right time.
Any plans on the part of one or both of your brothers to be caregivers or at least pay for caregiving? I'm going to be 75 in a few days. I was a night clerk in an old folks home a few years ago. Now I'm in a building special for seniors. I have seen what it's like for people elderly and failing to try to care for spouses failing even worse than they are. My brothers took steps to place my incompetent mother in a very nice home after my dad died (2002); thank God they had the money. I sure didn't. I'm proud to say what savings I have I earned myself after 65 by being that weekend night clerk and factotum in that old folks home I mentioned. I quit in 2014. I still have that few thousand bucks emergency savings. I get lonely, sure. My kids are moving into middle age and they live in another town. They aren't rolling in money but they have good jobs. My remaining brother and all those relatives are far away in Ontario and the politics of these last 5 years ( I joined social media in 2017 because my then still competent sister in law, a real sweetie no kidding, wanted me to connect with the family. O the irony) have set us all far apart. I'm OK and I feel blessed. I hope I won't have a long decline. I don't want to be a burden. If somebody has to take care of me at the end I want them to be payed for it by the government. It's a damn hard job that nobody should do for free.