My family

Some of you who read my blog may know this but, for those of you who don't, I haven't always had that great of a relationship with my family. I've been fairly close to my mom - at least we've always been on speaking terms - but things with my dad have been pretty difficult sometimes and my brother and I just started rebuilding a relationship after probably 20 yrs or so of "on again, off again" connection. Of course, my niece's arrival in our family has helped immensely with bringing us closer together but this isn't about her.

It's about me. It's about me doing my own emotional work, struggling with my expectations, and facing my fears about being hurt in a space that's supposed to be safe. It's about acknowledging those childhood experiences that were shaping my interractions with my family and making conscious choices about whether or not they were serving my highest interests. It's about looking at those deep and bitter wounds that were unintentionally inflicted and deciding whether to heal them or to let them fester. In short, it's about re-establishing relationships within my family that are more beneficial to me and more authentic for all of us.

What I'm now discovering is possibly what many people have always felt - fear of losing their family members. Until now, it never occurred to me that not only might one of my parents die but that I would actually feel pain and sorrow and grief at that death. I realize that may sound dysfunctional but there it is. For so long, I've felt like it would be a relief for my father to pass on - then I wouldn't have to worry about possibly talking to him or him wanting to talk to me. I suppose I've always avoided the thought of my mother dying and, as my brother is younger than me and fairly healthy, the thought of him dying seems far away.

But tonight, I realized that my parents are both getting older and that death is no longer something I can think about with detachment. Now that we have something again, now that I feel safer with them and more loved by them, I don't want anything to happen to either of them. I'm afraid. I'm afraid my parents will die and I will have spent all these years distant from them and assuming that they would always be there. I'm afraid they won't know that I do love them and appreciate their care.

I'm not sure I'm okay with this - this new feeling of fear and anxiety. Wasn't it easier when I didn't care so much? Even knowing that life and spirit continue after the death of the physical form, I'm scared about them going. Is this part of what makes a family? Do we cling together because we fear being left alone - is that why we're willing to endure such psychotic behavior from each other? All I know is that the thought of any of my family dying seems unbearable.