Oh, Elissa. My heart aches for you. I'm sorry you have to deal with being attacked by your mother on your vacation. And, endlessly at home as well, even as you do your best to care for her. I know what it is to love someone who is so frequently poison and I can feel in my own heart your heroic efforts to understand her and claim some goodness and sanity and peace in the face of what she has always been and done.
I think the work you do internally, and the gift we are afforded when you share that work with us, is greater than you will likely ever fully know. Thank you.
That the abuse in your childhood and the long work to recognize it has led you to deep compassion--something that is everywhere in this bounteous essay--is the stuff of awe. I'm so glad you made it on this trip and I wish you, step by garden step, peace and grounding.
Your mom's behavior sounds all too familiar to me. Nobody was speaking to my mom in the end except for me—not her daughters, not lifelong friends. I cared for her in her last years anyway, despite her bouts of raging at me and everyone for a lifetime. A very painful and lonely lifetime, for her, it seemed.
I am especially fond of people who have (or had) exceptionally difficult moms. I recognize how hard it is to still find a way to be loving—with boundaries—when you'd have every right to just cut off contact. What a beautiful thing to be such a loving and compassionate daughter to someone who isn't able to be the mom you have always deserved.
Hi Elissa - just using comments here to say I upgraded to paid a couple of weeks ago, but it's not showing on the app for some reason. I'm not sure what to do about that. I emailed you a couple of weeks ago too, and not sure if you've received it. Thanks for sharing this post, sounds incredibly tough x
Hi Julie- I received your email just before I left the States, so please look for a reply when I return home; we’ve had a booked schedule since we’ve been here. When you say you upgraded but “it’s not showing on the app-“ I’m not sure what you mean. Do you have access to all paid posts? (You should!) Can you access them via web as opposed to the app (which I’ve had a lot of trouble with)? I’d delete the app and then reinstall it—I’m traveling now through the 19th so won’t have too much of a chance to respond but do let me know via email. Thanks!
Thank you! I deleted the app, I think that’s solved it - I’m sure I’m able to access everything. (I think the ‘upgrade to paid’ button may have thrown me, too). Have the most wonderful time on the rest of your trip - Ardross Farm shop in Fife, Loch Leven RSPB nature reserve, Taybank Hotel in Dunkeld, Loch Tummel and the Queen’s View (and a drive a bit further west, to Loch Rannoch), all so worth a trip. Sun’s away for a few days, but there’s nothing like a muggy, wet stroll by the lochs to ease a chaffed soul xx
You write with perspective from afar. Yes, boundaries can only do so much, but without them, you're sunk. Bravo to you and Susan for a life-filling trip!
Your writing takes me back to my own mother, who had a viperous tongue much like your mother's, but couched in Christian charity. Not only was it hurtful and critical, but it was also justifiable in terms of being Biblical or Christ-like. My adult daughters join me in calling her behavior exemplified in "I deserve this," "I say what I think to be the truth," and "No one can pull anything over on me," as summoning one's inner Irene. It is a daily effort to dismiss that voice, despite her death almost 7 years ago.
Oh, wow, I am walking along every garden path with you, remembering being in both of those gardens many years ago, and feeling like I was back there again. How can I ever thank you. So inspired that you are doing what you love, and being where you love - no matter what.
"How quickly the natural world returns to its own order after we have passed through, shouting our names." - Joe Comer
..and yet we make our gardens, tend our gardens, love our gardens, and dwell in the present.
I live in a rental and gardening in a piece of soil I can call my own is something I yearn for. The longest we’ve been in a rental has been 8 years and even that felt so short. I gardened despite telling myself not to and now I’m going to have to leave some beloved and rare plants behind. It’s a bit like dying every time.
Lovely. Moving. Honest and insightful. The concept of flowers crowding out weeds, borders and boundaries of all kinds that work until they don’t, is brilliant. Thank you. (PS. Now I feel compelled to visit Sissinghurst some day.)
I like when you write about Towanda. I'm older than you -- 70 this month -- and attended one summer, when my parents insisted I go to a "better" camp than Wel-Met, the Jewish federation camp I thoroughly enjoyed. I was a "dorm girl," totally out of place with all these rich kids. My shoes came from Miles; the other girls had Fred Brauns. They were good swimmers and talented tennis players. Wel-Met didn't have a pool -- we swam in the lake -- and tennis? Nope. We dug latrines and went on sleepouts. A lot of them.
Anyway, I enjoy your work and can relate to things you write about growing up in Forest Hills. (I'm from Sheepshead Bay, Bklyn.) Aside from your many attributes, despite troubles with your mom -- and boy, they're excessive -- you're a stand-up daughter.
I'm delighted to hear your time there has not been sabotaged, that you are breathing in all that beauty and have the space to reflect. Thank you for sharing your experience with us here! I recently read both permission and motherland, and spent last weekend packing up and moving my 80 year old mother out of her home and across the country to live with my brother for now. She is very different from your mother, but she is similar in her inability to relate to others as separate, whole entities. Reading about your experience as her caregiver as it unfolds is helpful to me, and I feel a sort of sisterly connection with you in that!
I felt like I was reading my own life, my mother is now 90 and it took me 66 years to be able to establish boundaries and face the reality of the hold she had over my life. She still tries the manipulation etc but I no longer take the bait, or do her bidding. I love the garden metaphor as they are places of great joy for me as well! Edinburgh my souls home!! Bravo
How bravely you write! My truths are much like yours. I've contained these truths for 60 years and counting; my mother would be hurt and horrified to learn my truths.
Oh, Elissa. My heart aches for you. I'm sorry you have to deal with being attacked by your mother on your vacation. And, endlessly at home as well, even as you do your best to care for her. I know what it is to love someone who is so frequently poison and I can feel in my own heart your heroic efforts to understand her and claim some goodness and sanity and peace in the face of what she has always been and done.
I think the work you do internally, and the gift we are afforded when you share that work with us, is greater than you will likely ever fully know. Thank you.
That the abuse in your childhood and the long work to recognize it has led you to deep compassion--something that is everywhere in this bounteous essay--is the stuff of awe. I'm so glad you made it on this trip and I wish you, step by garden step, peace and grounding.
I hung on every word Elissa. This was just a gorgeous and riveting read. Thank you! <3
This is an idea I've been thinking (and writing) about recently, so it felt serendipitous too:
"The past informs the present informs the future; I am who I am now because of who I was then, whether I like it or not."
A walking splinter. Your writing. Gah. I hope you co time to bathe in the beauty.
This is beautiful, Elissa.
Your mom's behavior sounds all too familiar to me. Nobody was speaking to my mom in the end except for me—not her daughters, not lifelong friends. I cared for her in her last years anyway, despite her bouts of raging at me and everyone for a lifetime. A very painful and lonely lifetime, for her, it seemed.
I am especially fond of people who have (or had) exceptionally difficult moms. I recognize how hard it is to still find a way to be loving—with boundaries—when you'd have every right to just cut off contact. What a beautiful thing to be such a loving and compassionate daughter to someone who isn't able to be the mom you have always deserved.
Hi Elissa - just using comments here to say I upgraded to paid a couple of weeks ago, but it's not showing on the app for some reason. I'm not sure what to do about that. I emailed you a couple of weeks ago too, and not sure if you've received it. Thanks for sharing this post, sounds incredibly tough x
Hi Julie- I received your email just before I left the States, so please look for a reply when I return home; we’ve had a booked schedule since we’ve been here. When you say you upgraded but “it’s not showing on the app-“ I’m not sure what you mean. Do you have access to all paid posts? (You should!) Can you access them via web as opposed to the app (which I’ve had a lot of trouble with)? I’d delete the app and then reinstall it—I’m traveling now through the 19th so won’t have too much of a chance to respond but do let me know via email. Thanks!
Thank you! I deleted the app, I think that’s solved it - I’m sure I’m able to access everything. (I think the ‘upgrade to paid’ button may have thrown me, too). Have the most wonderful time on the rest of your trip - Ardross Farm shop in Fife, Loch Leven RSPB nature reserve, Taybank Hotel in Dunkeld, Loch Tummel and the Queen’s View (and a drive a bit further west, to Loch Rannoch), all so worth a trip. Sun’s away for a few days, but there’s nothing like a muggy, wet stroll by the lochs to ease a chaffed soul xx
You write with perspective from afar. Yes, boundaries can only do so much, but without them, you're sunk. Bravo to you and Susan for a life-filling trip!
Your writing takes me back to my own mother, who had a viperous tongue much like your mother's, but couched in Christian charity. Not only was it hurtful and critical, but it was also justifiable in terms of being Biblical or Christ-like. My adult daughters join me in calling her behavior exemplified in "I deserve this," "I say what I think to be the truth," and "No one can pull anything over on me," as summoning one's inner Irene. It is a daily effort to dismiss that voice, despite her death almost 7 years ago.
Oh, wow, I am walking along every garden path with you, remembering being in both of those gardens many years ago, and feeling like I was back there again. How can I ever thank you. So inspired that you are doing what you love, and being where you love - no matter what.
"How quickly the natural world returns to its own order after we have passed through, shouting our names." - Joe Comer
..and yet we make our gardens, tend our gardens, love our gardens, and dwell in the present.
Beautiful writing, as always. Thank you for touching my heart, yet again.
I live in a rental and gardening in a piece of soil I can call my own is something I yearn for. The longest we’ve been in a rental has been 8 years and even that felt so short. I gardened despite telling myself not to and now I’m going to have to leave some beloved and rare plants behind. It’s a bit like dying every time.
Lovely. Moving. Honest and insightful. The concept of flowers crowding out weeds, borders and boundaries of all kinds that work until they don’t, is brilliant. Thank you. (PS. Now I feel compelled to visit Sissinghurst some day.)
I like when you write about Towanda. I'm older than you -- 70 this month -- and attended one summer, when my parents insisted I go to a "better" camp than Wel-Met, the Jewish federation camp I thoroughly enjoyed. I was a "dorm girl," totally out of place with all these rich kids. My shoes came from Miles; the other girls had Fred Brauns. They were good swimmers and talented tennis players. Wel-Met didn't have a pool -- we swam in the lake -- and tennis? Nope. We dug latrines and went on sleepouts. A lot of them.
Anyway, I enjoy your work and can relate to things you write about growing up in Forest Hills. (I'm from Sheepshead Bay, Bklyn.) Aside from your many attributes, despite troubles with your mom -- and boy, they're excessive -- you're a stand-up daughter.
Now, vacation on!
I'm delighted to hear your time there has not been sabotaged, that you are breathing in all that beauty and have the space to reflect. Thank you for sharing your experience with us here! I recently read both permission and motherland, and spent last weekend packing up and moving my 80 year old mother out of her home and across the country to live with my brother for now. She is very different from your mother, but she is similar in her inability to relate to others as separate, whole entities. Reading about your experience as her caregiver as it unfolds is helpful to me, and I feel a sort of sisterly connection with you in that!
I felt like I was reading my own life, my mother is now 90 and it took me 66 years to be able to establish boundaries and face the reality of the hold she had over my life. She still tries the manipulation etc but I no longer take the bait, or do her bidding. I love the garden metaphor as they are places of great joy for me as well! Edinburgh my souls home!! Bravo
How bravely you write! My truths are much like yours. I've contained these truths for 60 years and counting; my mother would be hurt and horrified to learn my truths.