I am inspired to write this post by the recent passing of my mother-in-law. I won’t say much about my relationship with her, other than to say that her private behavior with me and my husband was difficult. She was inconstant, cruel, and one of those women who depended on the kindness of strangers.
I am struck, in this strange world after a death, how many people saw only the cheerful butterfly. She will be missed and mourned by many, which is all we can ask for in the end. I am reminded constantly of her presence. Last night, I found her notes all over one of my books. It felt strange to feel irritated over notations in Dorothy Sayer, followed immediately by the realization that there was no one to be irritated at. I could just lay the negativity aside, and I did.
So today I wonder, how much of a difference there is between the public and private lives of the dead. Is anybody wholly good or wholly bad? What is the appropriate remembrance for those who hurt us, heedlessly or with malice? I will support my children who loved her, and my husband, who is caught in the same web I am. He also loved her, as a parent. I don’t envy him.
I’m sure there are some in both categories - probably quite a few, minor character quirks aside. Straight-up assholes and decent people abound and I can think of few that seem to fit in either category pretty much 24/7.
But people are complicated and quite a few live compartmentalized lives or just present themselves very differently in context. I was just having a discussion with a co-worker about couple of our bosses we have little respect for. At work they are weaselly, disingenuous and impervious to logic. But the odd thing is we know people that have dealt with them outside of work and like them a lot. They seem like decent, friendly, caring people outside the job. And the thing is I’m pretty sure they don’t see themselves as weaselly, etc. - self-assured of their own righteousness they just don’t think they’re doing wrong in a work context. So good friends to have, difficult bosses to endure. I am sure the flip-side to that profile also exists.
Sounds like my Mom. She liked to put a happy face to the world but at home she was capricious, cruel and not at all bothered by it unless called out. She was a master of playing the victim and my dad would have done anything for her.
It comforts me somewhat to think that she was from the last generation before widespread awareness of mental health and abuse became prevalent. That she was the victim of the same sort of behavior herself and had nowhere to turn to for help.
Otherwise all that I would have left is anger and hatred.
My FIL was a difficult man. As he sunk into dementia and many medical issues he became almost unbearable. Mr.Wrekker had to make painful decisions on how to help him. Taking away car keys, confining him indoors because he had dangerous tools in his workshop. Finally having him placed in a fulltime nursing home. Where he terrorized the staff.
He may have lived longer if he had allowed someone to help him. It was a brutal 2 years.
When he died I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Mr.Wrekker was devastated. I couldn’t understand it. The man was far from lovable.
I asked Mr.Wrekker why he felt so awful about his fathers death. He said he was mourning the loss of the man his father could’ve been.
That made sense to me.
Just support your family, Sunny. I wish brighter days ahead for you guys.
Not wishing to hijack, my own mother passed away recently and my brother has written the eulogy for her funeral which he intends that we read between us. Over the last 16 years since she moved into sheltered housing, I have visited almost every other weekend which means I’ve had plenty of exposure to the good and the bad. He, however, was a very infrequent visitor. For example, mum had a fall and broke both her left hip and wrist which meant she had a very long and quite difficult recovery/rehabilitation. It took him over ten months to visit her following that accident.
Going off track a bit, his eulogy celebrates what he remembers of the good bits and offers up his explanation for why mum was the way she was. Sadly having spent so little time with her, he doesn’t know half of her background as I do. In the end, I think it comes down to how you want to remember them and how you would like other people to think of them.