Dear Cary,
It's my turn. I need advice.
I opened my mail earlier this week and found a wedding announcement -- from my son. My son, whom I raised alone since he was 3 (he's 30 now). My son, whose selfish temper tantrums through high school stopped me from dating women (and therefore, anybody) for years. Whose tour of duty in Iraq I gritted my teeth and “supported” him through despite my soul-level objection to his joining the Army.
The same son who, after he got his head right, volunteered -- practically begged -- to officiate at my wedding last year to a very sweet woman who rode out his homophobia until it was gone.
The son (my only child) about whom friends marvel, “You guys are SO close! It's heartwarming.”
He married his girlfriend of five years, which is whom he SHOULD marry -- and I've encouraged that for a long time. But eloping with no discussion with anyone (family, anyway) is disappointing, to say the least. There were no family issues going on about them; everyone on both sides was hoping for and expecting them to marry sometime soon. I'm sad that they've just taken a little jaunt downtown and gotten married in secret, taking away from everyone the opportunity to participate and celebrate. Certainly they have the RIGHT to elope -- but everything legal is not also a good idea.
All of that one could get over, and I no doubt will, but to just simply have been on the address list for a photocopied announcement -- that's too much for me. I got the news along with anyone else whose address they had -- high-school classmates, work friends, former employees. It's not like there was any other unhappiness going on; in fact, he called me "just to say hi" the same day they mailed the announcements, but without responding truthfully to "What's new with you?" I'm overwhelmingly sad at having been held at arms' length over this, and he is royally ticked off by my telling him -- carefully -- how hurt I was to get this notice in the mail. I was clear that I am happy for him to be married to this woman, and I sincerely hope it's forever, but I feel like they just went off on a lark (“Hee-hee, let's go get secret married and not tell ANYBODY -- they'll be SO surprised when they get the note!”) like teenagers, with no thought about the broader meaning of joining together publicly, of themselves as not just independent beings, but also part of a larger community of family and friends.
My friends are shocked, some even angry, and I feel hurt, hurt, hurt and sad, sad, sad. Slapped in the face. The wind knocked out of me. In light of my generic notification, I picked out a generic "congratulations" card and signed it with my first and last names (instead of "Mom"). I have to see both of them this weekend at a family birthday party (and I can't disappoint my young niece by staying away). I don't know how I can do this without crying. How? How do I deal this weekend, and how do I get out of this mire of sadness I'm stuck in?
Sign me
The Generic Person Formerly Known as Mom
Dear Generic Person Formerly Known as Mom,
You sound like a good and well-meaning person who was hit hard by something and had no defenses against it. Sometimes something will just bring you to your knees. You aren't expecting to be so deeply affected by something, and you aren't expecting someone to do something, and then when it happens you have no defenses.
Having no defenses can be a good thing. Sometimes it's the only way to truly feel something. In fact, I tend to think we often live in awful unreality, that we glide over tragedy and fate too easily, that we are glib and casual when we would be better served if we were grave and formal and silent, for daily we walk amid miracles and crimes.
I was at my locker this morning at the gym, next to a Russian man, and I said, "Excuse me," so I could dial my combination into my green padlock and open my locker. I looked into his face as he turned, and I saw pain and sorrow and anger; the look was so open as to be startling; he was not guarded and bland or shallowly comical like so many of the American middle-class men who frequent the gym; I saw his face and I thought of what horrors he had endured, what secrets he had, what awful things he had lived through. His face was grave and true. It humbled me. I sat quietly and waited while he dressed.
So let's just talk about emotional pain, and the dignity it involves, and its power. Let's not talk yet about why your son did what he did or any of that. For starters, let's say that emotional pain comes from an injury not to the body but to the soul, to our self-esteem or confidence or sense of who we are. In this case, it seems that your sense of self in relation to your son was injured. You thought your son held you in a certain regard but his actions seem to show that he does not.
Let's again delay talking about why your son did what he did and keep talking about you. Let's talk about your sense of yourself in relation to him. You have been his loving mom. You have been the most important person in his life. Being his mom has been one of your greatest roles. It has been a constant buoying force in your life. It has filled you with contentment and joy throughout the day. It has served to bolster your self-esteem and standing among your friends. Think about how important his place in your life has been. Just allow yourself to look at it. It might seem that to evaluate it like this might diminish it, but it won't. It will just help you see in how many different ways your relationship to your son has been central to your self-esteem and well-being.
To be somewhat glib, let's say that emotional pain goes away when the injury heals. In this case, your sense of self in relation to your son was injured. So how can that heal? Your son has suddenly moved out of your sphere and you are going to have to adjust. You are going to have to find new sources of joy and self-esteem. You might begin thinking about how your role in life will now change. You might begin thinking about how to let go of your son and find other sources of joy and contentment and pride day to day. You might also think about how to have a better relationship with your son, on these new terms in which he has moved out of your sphere of influence.
Let's also now consider what your son might have been thinking and feeling. He broke some rules. He did something heedless but also romantic. I wonder how he sees rules. It is possible that he does not take certain rules very seriously. You say he joined the Army and went to Iraq. The Army has a lot of rules. Perhaps his tour of duty in Iraq left him with a feeling that some rules are important because they protect life and limb, and others are civilian rules that are not about life and death and so they don't matter as much.
I don't know if you pray or not, but if you do, it might not hurt to pray for your son. That might just mean conjuring him up in your thoughts and wishing for his happiness. It might just mean having him in your thoughts in a kind way. Pray for him to be happy and to be safe and to endure and prosper.
You might also pray for him to gradually acquire the wisdom to see how his choice hurt you so deeply; you might pray that he will acknowledge that one day. I think he will. I think he will one day see that it hurt you deeply, and he will tell you that he didn't want to hurt you. Pray for him and love him. You will all get over this.
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