You Can Rekindle a Relationship, Even After 30 Years!

I watch a television program on Netflix called Pose. There’s a line from the show that has resonated with me because it reminds me of my relationship with my mother: “Just because you were a terrible mother, doesn’t mean I can’t be the daughter that I want to be.”

I stopped talking to my mother more than 30 years ago. My boundary was an act of survival. She was unable to respect my boundaries in childhood and adulthood and the relationship ultimately suffered. We would see each other at family functions and exchange polite pleasantries but that was the extent of our relationship. When my mother received a diagnosis of lung cancer four years ago, I worked very hard to push aside the years of painful memories because I wanted to be the son I wanted to be.

After decades of silence, we began to rekindle our relationship. I started to see her vulnerability, I started to see her from a different perspective, and I slowly am healing from the years of emotional wounds. We both are trying very hard to reconnect.

My mother is 82. A few weeks ago, her oncologist told me there was nothing more he could do for her treatment-wise. I have been a psychotherapist for 40 years; I have avoided doing grief work my entire professional career because it is an area that will weigh too heavily on me emotionally. But now that my mother is in hospice and our time together is coming to a close. I have to face what lies ahead. This is new to me, and I am struggling.

Besides learning to re-establish a relationship with her after 30 years, I am struggling through this end of life process. I have never lost anyone close to me, and I’m not sure what to do. What I do know is that I have to take care of myself, too.

If she hadn’t been diagnosed with cancer, I would not have reconnected with my mother. I realize now that my anger toward her was what helped me keep my boundary. Once I heard the doctor mention there was nothing more they can do, my anger dissipated and my compassion and empathy returned. Dealing with grief is extremely difficult, and dealing with complicated grief, like mine, seems insurmountable. We had a complicated relationship, one that brings back a lot of pain, and we still have many unresolved issues, but now I want to be fully present for her.

When we began the process of healing from the past, I already had many years of therapy myself and was healing from my childhood trauma. My mother and I just couldn’t find a happy medium where I could feel safe and seen, and where she could feel safe and seen, but we are getting there.

Now, I have a clearer view of who I am and who she is – this has been a true breakthrough. I admit that some of the old patterns resurface and some of the pain, anger and unfinished business returns, but we both are in a healthier place now, my anger has lifted, and I am able to manage my feelings better when I get hit with a blast from my past. We are healing, we are aware of the past, but we are focusing on the good things between us now. This has been a blessing for us, an awakening, and we are recovering faster.

My viewpoint has not changed, but I see my mother’s limitations, I accept them, and I see her for the person she is. It has been a liberating experience!

So much good is waiting for me; it is such a heavy burden that has been lifted, yet, at the same time, I am losing my mother. I finally felt safe to go back and reconcile, but I put a lot of work into it.

As a therapist, my advice is this: if you have stopped talking with a family member for a good reason, I will support the decision you make because I understand the hurt you are living with. I also want to say there may be a benefit to rekindling that relationship. If you reconnect and it doesn’t work, you can disconnect again.

When I was growing up, my mother used to tell me, “you will be a celebrity someday.” It’s strange how these random memories resurface years later. I took my mother to a Diana Ross concert when she first became ill – we both love Diana Ross – and at the concert I ran into many friends and colleagues. Afterwards, my mother said, “you made it happen. I gave you nothing because I had nothing. You went to school, you became somebody. Every time someone recognizes you or acknowledges you, take that in. Cherish it. You did this all on your own.”

That was her gift to me. I hope someday each of you will receive a gift like that from your family.