help my family thrive in the face of change

My relationship with my mother can best be described as difficult. I have long been a caretaker, at times a parent, and from time to time, more often now than ever, an enemy. Amidst all this, and the cumulative hurt of years, it is easy to lose sight of the beauty inherent in the person who gave me life. I saw this photo yesterday and, for the first time in far too long, her essence touched my heart. Her beauty is tinged with frailty and age, but it is beauty nonetheless. Something in her eyes kept me riveted, kept me from turning away as I am so often tempted to do. It occurred to me then that above all else I am her daughter, that above all else I love her. That may seem self-evident, but in the context of our relationship it represents a clarity long lost and much needed.

After all the work to get my family’s minds wrapped around the idea of moving, we took our house off the market. We’ll try again, I think, in February. It’s the right choice for right now, and the children are pleased to remain in their school, their neighborhood, and my husband to remain in his cozy home office, set up just the way he likes it, with his sign out front. But I have to say I am disappointed. I was looking forward to a new start in a new place.

Ah well. I may just have to pour that frustrated energy into re-doing the kitchen, or a bathroom, or perhaps some new landscaping.

It’s not the move, per se. It seems we will not be moving after all this year, much to my disappointment. Our children are fine, so resilient, as children often are. They embraced the move, and are now jumping with joy at the prospect of staying another year in the only home, town, they’ve ever known.

The problem is my SO, and the changes that are perhaps tougher to adjust to. No action steps, no packing of boxes or discarding of junk, can aleviate the discomfort and self-doubt that these changes seem to activate. The changes to which he seems to be reacting are the changes in me. My growth, it seems, calls his very being into question. And that question manifests itself in any number of worrisome, disheartening ways. Over our past 21 years together, the bonds of our relationship have always managed to stretch to accomodate our individual growth, our personal quests and evolving needs and desires. Maybe I took for granted that they always would. But recent attempts at communication and broadening of his horizons have not yielded the same (or desired) results. I wonder if at some point the bonds have simply stretched too far and have no more give. Or perhaps they have become hardened over time and lack of use, their elasticity lost forever.

To be fair, there is much more involved in this that I will not go into here. But suffice it to say it’s frustrating.