Mothers and Sons

My mother's mom is dying of cancer. And it sounds as if it is getting worse sooner than we had thought.

It was interesting to me that my mom told me she was afraid to leave my uncle.

My grandfather was an alcoholic and they were married for 36 years. They had 5 children. All are alcoholics, except for my mother, who somehow managed to not like to drink.

My uncle injured his back in his twenties and should have been in a wheel chair long ago according to most of his doctors. He is in constant pain, which is unfortunate. But he drinks too much and takes it out on my grandma, who he lives with. My grandma is one of the strongest women I have ever known. But I have seen her reduced to quiet tears by my uncle on a few occassions.

I adore my uncle. He's my favorite too. But it makes me cry just to think about this.

My family is not prone to cruelty. My grandma curses like a sailor but she has never been unkind to me or anyone that I can think of. She is direct - always direct - but never unkind. My uncle has never been cruel to me or my children. He is always kind no matter how intense his pain is on a given day.

I know he loves my grandma more than anything or anyone. He adores and worships her. And yet, somehow, I suppose like most people, when he is angry, his most beloved gets the brunt of it.

I have this theory about women living with alcoholics and the pain it causes them. I know so many who ended up with cancer, like my grandma. They take it and take it. It makes me very sad.

My grandma was not one for religion or Al-Anon. She said she could barely stand all the people in Al-Anon sitting around complaining about their problems. She has no patience for that. She just always got up and did the work that 5 children took. Perhaps she shut off her emotions, but I admire her in so many ways.

She also always took care of herself very well. Walking and swimming every day. Doing all sorts of exercise from Tai Chi to dancing. She ate well and drank moderately. She did smoke, but always disciplined herself to 2 cigarettes a day.

My other grandmother was not nearly as healthy, although they both were avid gardeners, and I think the fresh foods and exercise was great for both of them. But she will be 93 this year, whereas my mom's mother is only 70. Too young to die.

I was thinking the other day that my dad's mom had so much love from my grandpa. So much support. No one thought she would live this long, as she has had a heart condition for nearly 45 years. But love does wonders, whereas abuse kills.

And the difference it comes down to for me is that my dad's mother was able to live her life fully, in love and acceptance. Whereas my other grandma had to struggle every day to carve out a life for herself in spite of her circumstances.

Both managed to have good lives, but it was so much harder for my mom's mother.

I have been trying to make a point to spend more time with her. I stopped by the other day for lunch and headed back out again with my children on Saturday. I feel very fortunate for the love of both my grandmothers. Being a child of divorce myself, I know it was their support that held my life together at times.

I have often thought about my son and my relationship in terms of my grandmother and my uncle.

It is a hard spot to be a single mother. And I think that women married to alcoholics are usually single mothers, whether they are divorced or not.

You rely more on your children, which is in some ways unfair to them. I struggle between making sure my children are responsible and contribute to the family - and making sure that they also get to be children and have fun.

With my grandma and my uncle, I see them both rely on each other so much. In some ways, it is so beautiful. In other ways, I am sure it has been hard on both of them.

I wonder what will happen when they both need to die. I know my uncle is in terrible pain. So much so that my mother has told me to prepare myself for the day that he just kills himself.

But somehow, I think he would not do that to my grandma. That would kill her.

By the same token, she is sick and the time will come soon for her to die. And I fear she is holding on for the sake of my uncle.

I used to be so afraid of death and of losing someone that I love. Over the last 4 years or so, I have counted 16 friends and family who have died. It sort of all happened at once and it was hard. But what came out of it was acceptance about death.


"To lose a brother is to lose someone with whom you can share the experience of growing old, who is supposed to bring you a sister-in-law and nieces and nephews, creatures who people the tree of your life and give it new branches. To lose your father is to lose the one whose guidance and help you seek, who supports you like a tree trunk supports its branches. To lose your mother, well, that is like losing the sun above you. It is like losing--I'm sorry, I would rather not go on."

— Yann Martel (Life of Pi)