- Oct 17, 2009
- 42,935
- 13,619
- Country
- United States
- Gender
- Male
- Faith
- Non-Denom
- Marital Status
- Single
I have a question about relationships with people that we would normally be close to, but aren’t. I’ll use myself as an example since I have a situation exactly like that.
My Mom and Dad divorced when I was 9 years old and then I lived with my Mom and brother until I was 11, and then my Mom sent me to live with my Dad at that time. That put 600 miles of distance between us, although I certainly was not close with my Mom or brother in a relationship sense to begin with. After I started living with my Dad, I never really had a desire to maintain contact with my Mom or brother. What little closeness I may have felt toward them only dwindled with time. As I got older, I think we grew apart even more. That’s normal, right? People grow apart when they go through life away from people they used to know, especially if they didn’t have a close relationship in the first place. Sometimes it happens to people who were close as well. Long distance relationships are hard to maintain, even when it’s family.
Fast forward 13 years. I was 24 years old and my Mom and brother started calling on the phone, wanting me to take a Greyhound bus on a trip to visit them. Finally I agreed, but not because I wanted to go, although I thought some good might come of it. In reality, I preferred not to go. But I went anyway. It didn’t turn out very well. They seemed to think we were so close for some reason, and got mad at me when I couldn’t return the sentiment without faking it. My Mom kept talking trash about my Dad and things he did that she didn’t like while they were married. I was getting tired of hearing it. Arguments ensued and then negative feelings from the past were brought up to throw at each other. It was a relief to go back home again. Since then, my brother and I have been emailing each other, but arguments have been had that way repeatedly because he still doesn’t understand that we’ve all grown apart and that I don’t share their feelings of us knowing each other as we really are. They always liked to dwell on the past—either positively or negatively depending on the subject. No matter how many times, and no matter how thoroughly I’ve explained to him that we have grown apart, he just never understood. He’s not very bright, which is evidenced in ways I won’t go into detail about here.
Fast forward another 20 years, which is right now. My Mom, who never wanted to listen to anyone’s advice about getting her weight under control and taking care of herself, died a few days ago due to clogged arteries around her heart, and then refusing the bypass surgery that would have saved her life. Of course, my brother has been having a rough time of it since he saw her almost every day and was close to her. In keeping with the past, he expects me to feel the same way about the situation as he does. Of course I’m sad that she passed away like she did, and I feel bad for my brother because he’s going to have to get used to her being gone after all this time. But how can I feel the same? Sure, she’s my mother. My brother uses that phrase all the time at me like it’s supposed to explain everything, but I’ve only seen her once in the past 32 years—and that once wasn’t very good at all. At the same time, I’ve only seen my brother twice in that same time period.
At this time, I don’t feel I’m grieving her loss. But somehow I feel like I’m supposed to be. But if I do, then I’d be either forcing it or faking it. How can one grieve for someone they have so little connection to other than as a blood relative? But does this way of thinking make me a hard-hearted person? I’d like to know what others think.
My Mom and Dad divorced when I was 9 years old and then I lived with my Mom and brother until I was 11, and then my Mom sent me to live with my Dad at that time. That put 600 miles of distance between us, although I certainly was not close with my Mom or brother in a relationship sense to begin with. After I started living with my Dad, I never really had a desire to maintain contact with my Mom or brother. What little closeness I may have felt toward them only dwindled with time. As I got older, I think we grew apart even more. That’s normal, right? People grow apart when they go through life away from people they used to know, especially if they didn’t have a close relationship in the first place. Sometimes it happens to people who were close as well. Long distance relationships are hard to maintain, even when it’s family.
Fast forward 13 years. I was 24 years old and my Mom and brother started calling on the phone, wanting me to take a Greyhound bus on a trip to visit them. Finally I agreed, but not because I wanted to go, although I thought some good might come of it. In reality, I preferred not to go. But I went anyway. It didn’t turn out very well. They seemed to think we were so close for some reason, and got mad at me when I couldn’t return the sentiment without faking it. My Mom kept talking trash about my Dad and things he did that she didn’t like while they were married. I was getting tired of hearing it. Arguments ensued and then negative feelings from the past were brought up to throw at each other. It was a relief to go back home again. Since then, my brother and I have been emailing each other, but arguments have been had that way repeatedly because he still doesn’t understand that we’ve all grown apart and that I don’t share their feelings of us knowing each other as we really are. They always liked to dwell on the past—either positively or negatively depending on the subject. No matter how many times, and no matter how thoroughly I’ve explained to him that we have grown apart, he just never understood. He’s not very bright, which is evidenced in ways I won’t go into detail about here.
Fast forward another 20 years, which is right now. My Mom, who never wanted to listen to anyone’s advice about getting her weight under control and taking care of herself, died a few days ago due to clogged arteries around her heart, and then refusing the bypass surgery that would have saved her life. Of course, my brother has been having a rough time of it since he saw her almost every day and was close to her. In keeping with the past, he expects me to feel the same way about the situation as he does. Of course I’m sad that she passed away like she did, and I feel bad for my brother because he’s going to have to get used to her being gone after all this time. But how can I feel the same? Sure, she’s my mother. My brother uses that phrase all the time at me like it’s supposed to explain everything, but I’ve only seen her once in the past 32 years—and that once wasn’t very good at all. At the same time, I’ve only seen my brother twice in that same time period.
At this time, I don’t feel I’m grieving her loss. But somehow I feel like I’m supposed to be. But if I do, then I’d be either forcing it or faking it. How can one grieve for someone they have so little connection to other than as a blood relative? But does this way of thinking make me a hard-hearted person? I’d like to know what others think.