Mother’s Day – Good Riddance Dree in response

Mother’s Day – Good Riddance


Dree in response to your Blog on Mother’s Day

Many  thanks for your Mother’s Day blog! It’s comforting to know there are people out there who share my feeling about honoring mothers  – automatically. When my sister posted a picture of our mother crocheting hats as her Facebook picture and wrote an absolutely lovely few lines in praise of our mother aka her making Strawberry short cake etc, and crocheting hats. Leaving out, I might add, our mother’s real worth as a stalwart and persevering person, She was brilliant , classy, and charming…. I felt an inconsolable sadness mixed with a bit of rage.

Mother’s Day is the most depressing day of the year. Now that it’s over, I can recover my equilibrium as a person who reconciles the myth of my mother as a lovable person to my sister verses my reality that our mother thought I was unlovable. It saddens me to realize that my sister’s mother was different from my mother, even though one in the same person. It’s of great importance to me to be on the same page as my sister. I love her so much! Our only separation from each other is that unlike me, my sister played her part well in our mother’s play starring our mother the Queen. For her participation, my sister was curried and favored by our mother. My dear sister fashioned her life in the exemplary service of both our mother and father (who suffered from Parkinson’s disease) and then later in the service of her own daughter  – and in this case to good ends, because her daughter is so far happy and accomplished.

Our mother’s needs were not met by me, even though I tried valiantly to be the person for the part. I involved myself since the age of six in concern for our other sister who was profoundly handicapped by Cerebral Palsy and perhaps a genetic syndrome for which my mother blamed me, albeit indirectly. When it came time for a professional family portrait just before our sister’s death, I was not included even though I was a teenager and still living at home.

I had my own children, three of them. Our mother didn’t connect to them as her progeny. She was a grandmother only to my sister’s child. When our mother died the family house went to my sister as recognition of a mutual devotion..

But ironically,  I was more our mother’s child. I also became narcissistic. I treated my own children the way our mother treated me in that I used them to play minor characters in my play starring me as the brilliant unlovable genius.

I have been in therapy, for my children’s sake and for mine, for many years to learn to function from my authentic self. It’s been difficult to find out where and who that is. And still at 77 years of age, Mother’s Day gets to me. My goal is to leave my progeny a legacy of my love and not my persona. May they not celebrate Mother’s Day but celebrate daily the genuine compassion in themselves and others.

“Why is it all the books about death are written by the living?”


For my main site so to

“Why is it all the books about death are written by the living?”

I have recently, again in a talk group, had my pending death examined by those who strive to  possess knowledge about death that I apparently at almost 80 do not possess and really don’t want to. Death in the self help- on- the- road- to- inner- peace  is posited as a Awareness that One must embrace more and more with each advancing year. I must somehow cherish my  impending doom and of course I will be missed. “Death is beautiful…”

How does anyone know that?

And before we are off into the yonders of Death – wait one little minute. We old folks  have things to do and places to go, just like anyone else, even if it’s in our imagination. The meaning of life is as important to us as it is to yours. Don’t hover around us waiting for the “beautiful” moment so you can experience your acceptance of death.


I’M WALKING HERE!!, as in Ratso in Midnight Cowboy yells out to someone who pushes past him on the sidewalk. We know Ratso is soon to die but meanwhile there he is!

Dear Mum the blogger, I don’t intend to minimize your tears at the gradual loss of your father has you know him, spirited and dynamic. . I lost my own father bit by bit to Parkinson’s disease. But was this just a perception given to me by the hale and hearty living? What was lost? Each person has their own reality based on well… reality. But I suggest perhaps a different path for some who can pull it off. I am one of those old people on the cusp of 80. I have a hard time getting put of a chair, I am so weak that I have to sleep after the slightest exertion such as walking outside a few feet.


I want to say, suggest, whatever to get my point across that the mind does not need to follow the body, as per the expectation: aka the mind lock step follows the body. I see many old people (and most people) who adopt a mind set that has been bequeathed to them by custom, the expectation that once the body goes “downhill” it’s toward the end, as in a juggernaut gaining momentum until the crash of death.

“Is your mother in decline?” asked a man friend of my daughter’s when he saw me on crutches. I had just broken my foot. Many people break their feet and they are not old yet.  Babies break their feet. This assumption is not made about young people. For young people there is an assumption of recovery (say from the sky driving accident that produced brain damage, or the MS that physically compromises Stephen Hawking) and onto the rest of a dynamic life. Old people can have also have recovery of symptoms and also be on to a dynamic life. Just because we see the end looming doesn’t mean the end of life for today or even the immediate tomorrow.  Today is yesterday’s future.

I think what is held as the downhill of life in old people is depression  at the loss of physical ability and the unwelcome addition of pain and discomfort that does come with advancing years. Their loved ones are anticipating their impending death by striving for empathy concerning an entity no living person has a clue about. And no wonder, anyone at any age would feel depressed if that happened to them. What I am suggesting is, for us to look at the person and not the age. Save your empathy for life not death.