Comments on: The Helen Chronicles, Part X: Money Changes Everything

By: JHF

JHF — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 22:00:43 +0000

Oh, there are plenty of things to like, and even a happy memory or two.

But “supportive” is never a word I would use to describe Helen… I actually think she was mentally ill for decades and no one really knew. Every single visit at home, from the time I graduated from high school onward, was a descent into hell. You can’t imagine.As for my family, under-achievers all, with heavy loads of baggage, most of us only now crawling out from underneath the wreckage.

Not casting blame here in these chronicles, just telling it like it is. I’m glad you feel you had support from your own family, of course. I know so little about it. You may not realize it, but it was Helen (and my father) who distanced us from your family… All of that was Helen’s doing, her own mistaken guilt and inability to relate. I always liked my Middle River relatives more than the turgid, repressed scene in Chestertown, but we never seemed to ever GO there, and that made my siblings and I feel like there was something wrong with you folks, something we couldn’t talk about. Something scary and unknown.

My mother kept me from knowing my own relatives, cut me off, in effect. I don’t know how that happened, but it did, and it cost us all so very much. I can’t even name all my cousins, aunts, and uncles. That’s how I was raised.

By: Karen Smith Streaker

Karen Smith Streaker — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 21:43:05 +0000

Helen’s sister, Aolia, my mother is completely the opposite from everything you relate about your mother…how can that be? Never was there a more uplifting person or supportive being than my mother. I am still terribly sad that she is no longer alive. She lead her own life, didn’t ask us children for anything but always “checked in” to see what was up with our lives. Her talents were many–most not fully explored but nevertheless, they were appreciated by all of her children. She was the cohesive substance of our family and never waivered from “always being there for us”. I’m very sorry your Mom couldn’t relate to you and your siblings the same inner strength and confidence that my Mom gave to all of us. I, for one, always admired “Aunt Helen” and your family–the fact that you all had the many opportunities to live all over the world and enjoy knowledge of other societies at such an early age…maybe that wasn’t a good thing?
It may be of some use to you to find maybe just one thing that you could like about your Mom? There must be something. I always remember her smile–it was kind.

Take Care..

Karen

By: John H. Farr

John H. Farr — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 15:15:14 +0000

Maybe I need to rewrite these things: she DID smother me, dude! That’s the whole point. On this last trip to Tucson, I SAW THE PILLOW.

My biological mother is not a link to the roots of my being. (She could have been, of course.) The roots of my being aren’t human, fortunately, and neither are yours, which is why I’ve been able to survive, by linking to them in other ways.

By: Fred

Fred — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 12:26:37 +0000

John,

It’s not about the money. It was never about the money. It’s not what kept you coming, and if you want to label it guilt that’s OK, but it’s inadequate as well. What ties you to your mother is that, well, she’s your mother. She brought you into the world and didn’t smother you with a pillow. Two points for that at least.

You’re coming to a point where you’ll no longer have to deal with her craziness, but the flip side of that is that you’re coming to a point where you’ll no longer be able to deal with her at all.

Like it or not, there’s a psychic link between you, coded deep in your DNA. It’s what keeps you going back, without the promise of milk and cookies. She may be old and maybe she’s an utter witch, but she’s still your link to the roots of your being. Your relationship with her may not be what you want, but you still wish it was, and you’ll always wish it was, and you’re coming to the point where all opportunity of redemption will be gone, no matter how much you think it’s gone now.

No, it’s not about the money, and it’s not about guilt, because if you really believe you haven’t done enough then do more, forgive more, absorb more, but if you think you’ve done all you can, then it’s that tenuous high E string of lineage that’s pulling at your gut.

Or not. What do I know?

By: Mtnred

Mtnred — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 21:51:20 +0000

Depends on what “it” is.

By: K.J. Webb

K.J. Webb — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 12:28:56 +0000

Aw, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me (I think). Er, how do I parse “it”?

By: John H. Farr

John H. Farr — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 03:29:21 +0000

A guilt-free life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Honestly, K.J., I don’t know how you do it.

By: K.J. Webb

K.J. Webb — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 01:53:56 +0000

A guilt-free life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes feeling bad about oneself is sort of justified by the reality that one’s behavior isn’t so great. Guilt is the canary in the mine shaft, telling us to get the hell out or die.

Sometimes worry about failure is sort of justified by the distinct possibility that one could fail. Worry is telling us to focus and succeed.

Who can jettison all this heavy freight? The lightness would be unbearable. We’d want to get the guilt and worry back and be human again.

By: John H. Farr

John H. Farr — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 23:07:20 +0000

Right on all counts.