Down the Rabbit Hole

Alice Makes Her Piece...

Life affords us unique opportunities sometimes. Last night I had an unexpected opportunity to see my former Mother-in-law again after nearly ten years. Tina was never a big fan. I used to try to see things from her perspective, her only son, brings home a big-boned, independent gringa who can not speak a word of Spanish, at least initially. I remember meeting her and her sisters for the first time, tiny, precise little women with dark Indian skin and sharp features that twitted me about like exotic birds. I felt large and awkward. I think she must have tried, for her son's sake, but I had not been what she had hoped. I noticed she never smiled in pictures with me, even with one of her arms wrapped about my shoulders, she never smiled. She always looked as if she'd had something sour under her tongue, her face barely containing the disappointment she had to have felt. Most of time with Tina, she oscillated between coldness and indifference and an almost manic bouts of mothering that included intense criticism of my bra's not having proper support, a host of bizarre remedies to help improve my skin or help with my digestion and long side conversations with her sisters about my weight and posture. As I began to learn more and more of her language, I began to like less and less of what I understood. When things began to deteriorate and then when they took a turn for the worst, she never stood up for me. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, the particular sickness that infected her child that made him twist with rage and strike out, but she never once came to my rescue. She made excuses at first, but never, as a woman, as a mother, ever stepped up for me as her sister's did. I hated her for that, for condoning his behavior by her silence. It was such a stark contrast to my relationship with her husband. I found Raphael charming and elegant. He had an old world formality but an adventerous spirit. He was endlessly interested in me, in my work, in my thoughts on all things worldly. He supported me with my pursuit of learning the language and my love affair with Mexico. In my travels, I would often find myself walking arm in arm with him, just talking. When I made the decision to leave his son, it was to him that I drafted a letter, thanking him for being the most wonderful of father-in-laws and telling him how deeply I loved and appreciated him. While I assume Tina was pleased to see the woman she always felt held her son back move on, his life never seemed to progress the way she had hoped. I guess I understand that she needs to blame someone for the way things turned out for him. When she walked through my door last night, I wasn't sure what I was expecting...what I got was that same look. She took one look at my little girl and her features reassembled into that familiar mask of disappointment and disapproval. How did I end up having the life she so desperately wanted for her son? So what did I gain from the experience? Time does not heal all wounds, sometimes it just transforms them. Her disapproval of me had become a conduit for the anger and blame that she needs to place at someone's feet. And, I'm okay with that. I have much more sympathy for her now, than I did when I was trying so hard to please her. I understand how painful it must be to see my child when her son has yet to make his own family. Years ago I had deprived her of a grandchild and I'm certain that carved a special scar on her heart. I won't see Tina again and though I didn't make my piece with her, I was able to get peace with the our past.I don't feel angry or hateful toward her anymore. I feel for her. I feel sorry for her and I think I even understand her now. I suppose that's the best we can hope for sometimes.