agonyaunt | (no subject)

Dear Annie: I'm 63 years old, and I live alone in a quiet little house with my dog, Rosie. I like to sit on the porch in the evenings and watch the sun go down, but lately the silence feels heavier than it used to.

My daughter, who is in her 30s, moved to Texas with her husband about a year ago -- and since then, she hasn't spoken to me. Not a text, not a call, not even a holiday card. I send messages, reach out on birthdays, even mailed her a little photo of Rosie wearing a birthday hat.

I know there's something from her childhood that she's struggling with. Something painful that she believes I didn't protect her from. And the truth is, maybe I didn't. Her father died 26 years ago, and we were both trying to survive the grief in our own ways. I was overwhelmed and didn't always see what was right in front of me. I've tried to say I'm sorry, in words and gestures, but she's built a wall I haven't been able to get through.

Some days, I want to get in the car and drive the 800 miles just to knock on her door and see her face. Other days, I wonder if I should just give up and let her have the distance she clearly wants.

How does a mother keep loving her child from afar when the door has been shut so firmly? Is there anything I can do to open it again -- or do I have to learn to live with the silence? -- Grieving But Still Reaching Out

Dear Grieving: Your love for your daughter is clear, and your pain is deeply felt. You've taken responsibility for the past and tried to reconnect; that takes strength.

But healing takes time, and sometimes silence speaks more about a person's pain than their feelings for us. Your daughter may need distance now, but that doesn't mean she always will.

Keep your heart open. Send occasional notes or memories, simple reminders that you're still here. Let her know the door is always open without pushing it.

In the meantime, nurture your own life. Find joy in friendships, community and moments that make you feel whole. You are more than the silence between you.

Whether or not she's ready to reconnect, keep loving her.

Link

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

1. I really have to admire LW's opening. Not gonna lie, it really set the scene for me. LW should reuse it in their novel.

2. With that said, I notice a gaping omission in the story of Daughter's Tragic Past, and no, it's not the details on what the hell happened to the girl. No, what's missing is the part where LW takes Daughter seriously. I mean, you know that you were partially responsible for your child being molested (I mean, that's gotta be it, right?) and now that she's distanced herself from you your approach involves sending cute dog pics?

Okay, we all appreciate a cute dog pic, but I genuinely do not think this is what Daughter wants or needs in her life. What she is clearly saying she wants is for minimal contact - so, I'm thinking, a card on Christmas and her birthday saying "I'm here if you want to talk" is about the absolute limit on non-emergency communications.

(I'm also not sure that LW really has taken the appropriate amount of responsibility for whatever it is they failed to do. If they don't do that, they'll regret it.)

It might not be sexual abuse -

it could be that LW failed to protect daughter from:

- physical violence from her father or from one of her mother's partners

- verbal/emotional abuse from her father or from one of her mother's partners

- very severe bullying from one or more of her classmates

- or even that daughter was suicidally depressed or self harming after her father died, and LW just wasn't there for daughter

There's been a plot thread recently on a programme I follow, with an adult daughter lashing out at her mother for literally not being there for her after her father died, i.e. mother went off somewhere for weeks and left teen daughter alone in the house to look after herself (or, as it turned out, not).

Despite what Annie says, no, LW has not taken responsibility. She probably knows what the unspecified "something in her past" was, but admits that "maybe she didn't" protect her daughter.

Now, maybe LW knows exactly what the issue was, and acknowledged her failure to her daughter. But "something painful that she believes I didn't protect her from" sounds like LW never admitted to her daughter that she got it wrong. Her daughter gave her a quarter century after her father's death, before moving to Texas and stopping speaking to her.

Even the actual acknowledgement is more excuse-making than apology - "I was overwhelmed, I didn't see what was in front of me" - okay, so can we try this with a more responsibility-directed mindset? "I was focused on my own problems when I should have been paying more attention to my daughter" would go a long way. LW doesn't necessarily have to believe that their first framing is wrong, but... if you are spending your apology building up your defense then what are you even doing?

If only LW had put as much effort into empathizing with her daughter as she has put into trying to elicit sympathy for herself with her poetic description of the estrangement.

It's a really poetic description, though.