“Zinaida is right” I started typing the response to my mom’s text. “She expressed her opinion based on her personal experience in the subject matter. She appears to have learnt what constitutes a lack of respect and attention towards her own parents; now that she is older and seeks the same from her children, she demands it the same way her parents did… which, at that time, prompted her to distance herself from them. Now, she probably feels guilty about her actions in the past but instead of admitting it and sharing the enlightenment, she chose to continue to promote demanding respect, attention and care just like her parents did. To leverage it, she uses the same premise: juxtaposition of pregnancy, birth and upbringing against the life of a child who apparently signed off on a contract which laid out terms and conditions of payback for the care, love and energy it took to raise this child.
Now that the child is grown and moved on, the parent(s) seek to collect “dividends” often resorting to blackmailing their children and their families in an effort to “pry their minds open” and thrust their aging issues in the face at every opportunity.
Naturally rejected by their children for the position of a family demagogue, out of frustration, the parents direct their lifelong accumulated anger, sorrow and toxic guilt upon their children. There, also, comes blame for everything that have ever gone wrong in their lives.
But, at the core of it is a hardened shell of vulnerable ignorance that has been dormant until it got disturbed. And for this disturbance, the parents become angry. “How dare you!” they exclaim “I gave you life! You are so ungrateful!” Then, there is “Damned be you and your family!”
I quickly reviewed the text and finally sent the text message. I had to go pee really bad.
[50 min later]
I totally forgot about it. Or didn’t want to think about it. I had a feeling my mom would write something nasty. I grabbed the phone to see if she answered. She did. It wasn’t pretty.
“You are a loser! A lazy fuck, a monster who hides behind your wife! You have never amounted to anything in life! Damn be you! You have destroyed my life. You are the reason I am miserable. I wish you had never been born! How dare you speak to your mother like this!”
I took a deep breath. I exhaled slowly and deliberately. I don’t know why but it felt good. Then, I did it again.
“I forgive you” I replied.
“I will never forgive you!” she wrote back.
“Why are you so mad at me? How exactly did I ruin your life? I am forty years old, I have been happily married for the last twenty years, I have two amazing children, I own a business. How am I a loser, a lazy fuck and a monster? It is you who is retired, married to a lonely, disabled, old guy in hopes that one day you get to inherit his government-subsidized apartment, blames everyone around you for all the wrong choices you have ever made. Something tells me I am the only one left willing to listen…” I took another deep breath, exhaled slowly and sent the message.
“Fuck you! Did you already forget how you insulted me in front of the lowlives? How I wanted to sit down with you and speak face to face? You are not a son to me! You are trash and always have been!” she wrote.
I was starting to run out of air.
“I feel your pain” I replied. “But I don’t think I am the problem. You have suppressed issues. I am willing to hear you out. Please know that I do not hold any grudges against you and if you feel guilty towards me, please don’t. I am fine. I forgive you for everything nasty thing you have ever said about me, my dad, my wife, my family. This is what a loving son does. I think you are unable to admit to yourself how much you fucked up in life, and it weighs heavy on you. I get it. I don’t want you to blame yourself, it is not your fault that you haven’t been able to figure out life by the retirement age. You simply were not taught the necessary skills. You did your best. You did better than your parents did” I wrote and sent the message.
I took another gasp of air. There was no reply.
“You are being too harsh on yourself” I quickly wrote and sent another message.
The last text message bubble turned color green instead of the usual blue iMessage one. I realized she must have blocked my number.
Inspiring 