This is a 3-generation photo of my grandmother, mother, and myself in
November 1969. I was 5 months old then.
The bond between a mother and daughter should be something precious, but in many families, that bond is weak. I will be 40 next year and as I look back on my life, it becomes apparent how alike I am to my own mother, and how much alike she is to her mother, my grandmother.
Many of us go through childhood with hopes and dreams that only youth can conjure, but as life delivers its hardships, joys, and tears, some of those hopes and dreams are dashed, while others live on in our hearts but are never realized. My own grandmother had such hopes for herself and possibly expected my grandfather to give her more than he could deliver. For the longest time, I have seen my grandparents gradually grow more distant from each other, with my grandfather relegated to the kitchen, while my eldest aunt and grandmother reside in the living room. Two years ago, my grandmother lost her last living sister to heart problems and Alzheimers, and since then, she has quickly gone downhill and now stays in a hospital bed in the living room refusing to walk and essentially waiting to die. She only wants to be with her parents and sisters, rather than to stay around to watch her great-grandchildren grow up or stay with her husband; she no longer embraces life. She doesn't realize how valued she is by her family, nor does she realize her own self-worth. She doesn't communicate with grandpa much anymore, certain that he doesn't really care about her or love her and refuses to let anyone convince her otherwise. When she gets upset at someone, she's quick to give her classic silent treatment than can last some time.
I find that my own mother is beginning to follow in grandma's footsteps. For her, the glass is half-empty, not half-full. She's convinced that everyone is right and she's always wrong. Her look on life is full of negativity, failing to realize that she is the one in control of her own future and that she needs to stop hanging on to real or imagined slights and other negative experiences. Granted, letting go of these feelings is not easy when you've carried them for so long; I'm guilty of hanging on to a few bad events in my life, but I don't allow them to control me. Like my grandmother, she is not happy with her lot in life, yet she refuses to go out and make the desired changes happen. She doesn't recognize her own self-worth or value, and she goes through her days unhappy and finding fault with anything and anyone who gives her cause for grief. For all of this, my relationship with my mother has become strained. While I do love my mother and do my best to be a good daughter, I often find myself at the receiving end of her grousing. Even when I'm not the source of her grief, she feels it necessary to carry on a dialogue of negative thinking. When I try to instill positive thoughts in her, she shoots them down with more negative comments.
For myself, while I do tend to give the silent treatment when I'm upset at someone (like my grandmother), and feel like I've been handed a few too many lemons in life (like my mother), unlike them, I try to make lemonade, continually hoping that the next horizon will bring something better my way. I try to steer clear of negative people for my own benefit, so it's no surprise that I don't talk with my mother as much as I should. Also unlike them, I'm forever hopeful that my dreams will come to fruition somehow, someway. I refuse to delve too deeply into the realm of negativity, for once you begin to go down, it becomes increasingly difficult to bring yourself back up to the surface, where the sun is shining.
I can only hope and pray that I have broken that chain of thought that has pervaded the minds of my grandmother and mother. Life will always hand you lemons, so the best that anyone can do is to keep hoping for something better tomorrow.
Many of us go through childhood with hopes and dreams that only youth can conjure, but as life delivers its hardships, joys, and tears, some of those hopes and dreams are dashed, while others live on in our hearts but are never realized. My own grandmother had such hopes for herself and possibly expected my grandfather to give her more than he could deliver. For the longest time, I have seen my grandparents gradually grow more distant from each other, with my grandfather relegated to the kitchen, while my eldest aunt and grandmother reside in the living room. Two years ago, my grandmother lost her last living sister to heart problems and Alzheimers, and since then, she has quickly gone downhill and now stays in a hospital bed in the living room refusing to walk and essentially waiting to die. She only wants to be with her parents and sisters, rather than to stay around to watch her great-grandchildren grow up or stay with her husband; she no longer embraces life. She doesn't realize how valued she is by her family, nor does she realize her own self-worth. She doesn't communicate with grandpa much anymore, certain that he doesn't really care about her or love her and refuses to let anyone convince her otherwise. When she gets upset at someone, she's quick to give her classic silent treatment than can last some time.
I find that my own mother is beginning to follow in grandma's footsteps. For her, the glass is half-empty, not half-full. She's convinced that everyone is right and she's always wrong. Her look on life is full of negativity, failing to realize that she is the one in control of her own future and that she needs to stop hanging on to real or imagined slights and other negative experiences. Granted, letting go of these feelings is not easy when you've carried them for so long; I'm guilty of hanging on to a few bad events in my life, but I don't allow them to control me. Like my grandmother, she is not happy with her lot in life, yet she refuses to go out and make the desired changes happen. She doesn't recognize her own self-worth or value, and she goes through her days unhappy and finding fault with anything and anyone who gives her cause for grief. For all of this, my relationship with my mother has become strained. While I do love my mother and do my best to be a good daughter, I often find myself at the receiving end of her grousing. Even when I'm not the source of her grief, she feels it necessary to carry on a dialogue of negative thinking. When I try to instill positive thoughts in her, she shoots them down with more negative comments.
For myself, while I do tend to give the silent treatment when I'm upset at someone (like my grandmother), and feel like I've been handed a few too many lemons in life (like my mother), unlike them, I try to make lemonade, continually hoping that the next horizon will bring something better my way. I try to steer clear of negative people for my own benefit, so it's no surprise that I don't talk with my mother as much as I should. Also unlike them, I'm forever hopeful that my dreams will come to fruition somehow, someway. I refuse to delve too deeply into the realm of negativity, for once you begin to go down, it becomes increasingly difficult to bring yourself back up to the surface, where the sun is shining.
I can only hope and pray that I have broken that chain of thought that has pervaded the minds of my grandmother and mother. Life will always hand you lemons, so the best that anyone can do is to keep hoping for something better tomorrow.
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