A Cold, Cold Winter
My Dearest Love,
It continues to be cold in these parts. The thermometer is apparently stuck in negative numbers. It has been this way since the beginning of the month. The emotional landscape has been in the freezing zone for a lot longer than that. Your sister's hearts are frozen in time, as if they were caught exposed by a sudden storm of unimaginable fury that froze them in place and covered them. If they do not break free soon, glaciation will set in.
I tried to thaw them with a fire of words. I wrote to each of them with a plea for healing, forgiveness, and a recognition of a greater need - that of family. One, B, melted just a bit. She called the therapist I am seeing and discussed her reservations and fears. She followed that conversation up with an email to me expressing hesitancy and declaring that she is afraid of me.
Your other sister, P, the one with whom I had the original argumentative phone call last October (can it be so long ago, how does this go on?) also sent me an email, but it was much less hopeful. She has decided that I have done something unforgivable apparently. She says that she is not sure if she wants to risk a part of her on someone with my character. Perhaps she sees me as one more male, the last in a long line predecessors, to have failed her. That would fit with her history.
They have both expressed an interest in coming over next weekend when your best friend and SIL, PM, will drive down from Duluth and we will begin to go through your clothes, making decisions on who gets what. I am pretty nervous about what that will be like. B said she would like to come, but can only do that if she figures out a way to "move forward" with our dysfunctional relationship. P, on the other hand, said that she would definitely be there and then sends me a very stony email telling me that she thinks I am a worm that she can't be bothered with. The therapist advises me to create a "nurturing" atmosphere. I would like a suit of armor myself.
This would be amusing if it were turned into a screenplay illustrating the banality of family dysfunction. Unfortunately, when one is caught up in the nightmare, it seems less funny.
I wish I had better things to write to you about.
P.
It continues to be cold in these parts. The thermometer is apparently stuck in negative numbers. It has been this way since the beginning of the month. The emotional landscape has been in the freezing zone for a lot longer than that. Your sister's hearts are frozen in time, as if they were caught exposed by a sudden storm of unimaginable fury that froze them in place and covered them. If they do not break free soon, glaciation will set in.
I tried to thaw them with a fire of words. I wrote to each of them with a plea for healing, forgiveness, and a recognition of a greater need - that of family. One, B, melted just a bit. She called the therapist I am seeing and discussed her reservations and fears. She followed that conversation up with an email to me expressing hesitancy and declaring that she is afraid of me.
Your other sister, P, the one with whom I had the original argumentative phone call last October (can it be so long ago, how does this go on?) also sent me an email, but it was much less hopeful. She has decided that I have done something unforgivable apparently. She says that she is not sure if she wants to risk a part of her on someone with my character. Perhaps she sees me as one more male, the last in a long line predecessors, to have failed her. That would fit with her history.
They have both expressed an interest in coming over next weekend when your best friend and SIL, PM, will drive down from Duluth and we will begin to go through your clothes, making decisions on who gets what. I am pretty nervous about what that will be like. B said she would like to come, but can only do that if she figures out a way to "move forward" with our dysfunctional relationship. P, on the other hand, said that she would definitely be there and then sends me a very stony email telling me that she thinks I am a worm that she can't be bothered with. The therapist advises me to create a "nurturing" atmosphere. I would like a suit of armor myself.
This would be amusing if it were turned into a screenplay illustrating the banality of family dysfunction. Unfortunately, when one is caught up in the nightmare, it seems less funny.
I wish I had better things to write to you about.
P.
Copyright ©2003-2007 Phaedrous
posted by Phaedrous at 10:22 AM
1 Comments:
I don't know what to say, P. It's so bizarre, but then so is a lot of behavior in grief. I've seen some (and done some) myself in the last 7 months. Perhaps they have taken up the mantle of being The Deepest and Most Correct Grievers? And anything you do or don't do to whatever script they're furiously (literally) writing in their heads makes you the malfeasor. I don't know, but you have tried very, very hard to mend this rift. But you are 100% responsible for 50% of every relationship you're in; if they're not going to try, then they are the ones who gave up. Not you. I'm so sorry it is being this way. I really am.
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