Correction

I need to write a correction to the blog. My sister in law called me and wanted to make it clear my mother had said she could not see Jeanine. It was too painful. She never once said she would not see her grandchildren. She always wanted to see the boys.

My guess is that to refuse the boys would have ended up like a bad B-movie script. Violins rise sympathetically in the background. Our heroine, propped in bed against a pile of pillows, throws her arm over her forehead.

I can’t. I just can’t. The pain is unbearable.

But … you must. Just one last time. For the babies.

I cannot… I am… too weak.

Fade to black.

To me, she needed to, again, make a point- I had hurt her so deeply, she could not see my wife as it reminded her too much of me. The kids, who look like me, were fine. Jeanine, with her long, black hair and gorgeous Mexican skin (see earlier photo- I am as white as they come) would be too much. It was, in my opinion, an attempt to garner sympathy for her plight.

But not consciously. And that’s where I feel it’s important to cut her some slack. I don’t think she knows the things she does, to quote her statement about me. I honestly don’t think she actively thinks about how to be hurtful or manipulative. I asked the question before; does a narcissist see himself or herself in a description of narcissism? I don’t think so. While everything is about them, it is also about their generosity, their heroic efforts. Their kindness. The image in the mirror is only of their face. In turn, they describe all they see. It is by reflex, not by intention.

So, correction made. My mother always wanted to see her grandchildren. She made it into an event that was about her, her needs, her vision, and her rules. But always, she wanted to see them.

A heroic effort, indeed.