“Can We Ever Stop Trying To Revive The Past?”
In my weekly talk with my dad last Sunday, a topic came up that I had hoped would not raise its ugly little head again. First, let me remind you that my past relationship with my father was always rocky at best — there were times when we did not speak, and in some ways that was a great relief for me.
The verbal abuse I experienced from him growing up was something that I carried around with me for many years; it manifested as anger and the need to control others in order to experience what felt to me like safety. Obviously, this created dysfunctional relationships, and until I hit 40, I blamed others for what I later realized I had created myself.
Over the last few years, and to the surprise and delight of both of us, my relationship with my father has healed to the extent that we can actually talk for extended periods of time without getting defensive and/or judging and even attacking the other person in some way. However, my dad still seems to have the need to reminisce about how “nasty” I was to him in this or that conversation that occurred years ago — the implication being that I had been a very unlikable person until recently, when I somehow “changed my attitude” and turned into nice Diane.
I have let this go over and over, as I know now that it simply does no good to rehash one’s perceived childhood pain with the aging parent who was involved. Oh, I tried this a number of times years ago, and was shocked to discover that my father (and mother for that matter) had no memory of any transgression on their part.
I guess I was in a sort of prickly mood this time, because I found myself resenting being placed in a position of apologizing for something not only dug up from the past, but in this case, a conversation I know did not go as my father describes it. I suddenly heard myself say, “Well, you know, ours was the only relationship in the last 15 years that was problematic. Yes, I know I was not particularly nice to you and at times even hung up the phone on you, but there were reasons for that. You do remember that when I was growing up you did a lot of yelling. I was afraid of you and as I got older, I felt anger towards you for that. You would call me “stupid” or tell me I needed to see a psychiatrist if I disagreed with you.”
Needless to say, my father was shocked and horrified. He has no recollection of any of this, apparently having always believed he was a wonderful father. I could tell that he was grappling with it; that it could only cause him pain if he were to accept it. We both fumbled around for a minute or two, until we agreed that the past truly no longer exists. Since it doesn’t exist, why go there? We both agreed that we are very very happy with the relationship that we have forged, that we each forgave the other some time ago, and that we don’t want to jeopardize it now.
The ex-mental health professional as well as the hurt child within has always wanted to force my father to look at what he did and take responsibility for its role in undermining not only our relationship, but all of mine until the time that I took things into my own hands. Over a number of years, I successfully managed to exorcise all the old demons. It took a great deal of time, effort and inner work, and required brutal honesty on my part.
I know now that I can’t expect a parent to do the same — it’s just not reasonable. And after all, if we can take it upon ourselves to meet each new moment with acceptance of someone, no matter what our history with them, won’t we be able to see them more clearly than we ever could through the lens of historical pain? (End of post–please ignore below)