Take a moment to ask yourself if you’ve done all you can to not only end the ongoing parent-child estrangement, but to cope with it.
One recurring criticism of what we do, as originates from outside of the PLACE community, is that we are an echo chamber, a group of toxic parents and grandparents who meet to complain, to have pity parties, and to deny any wrongdoing.
And if you’ve attended PLACE meetings, at this point you know just how wrong that is.
We’re not an echo chamber. People in group do push back on ideas and opinions with some regularity. They also do it with respect and decorum, which seems to be counter to whatever “toxic” is. (It’s not a clinical term, so while it can hurt, in the psychological field, it doesn’t mean anything).
We do complain. Does anyone think that in our position, they’d be able to cope with no complaints? We’ll get back to this one in a moment.
Pity parties, well, that one’s harder to pin down. Certainly we have moments in which people struggle. In fact, many parents initially respond to estrangement as if there is a moral imperative to shoulder culpability.
My child has departed, and therefore as the parent, it must be my fault.
So when these hurting parents show up in groups verbalizing this response, “pity party” is a label one could slap on it.
“Normal” is another. And curiously, over time, there tends to be a trajectory to their grief. Yes, parent-child estrangement is tragic, and in many cases the tragedy was preventable, which further compounds the pain. People sometimes describe this as their worst emotional distress. However, time and distance tend to result in parents’ ability to gain some perspective on what happened. The pity parties tend to dissipate, replaced by anger (hence the aforementioned complaints).
That trajectory is accompanied by accountability and honesty.
Like every other parent who has ever raised a child, I made mistakes. However, I did not make the sort of mistakes that should have resulted in abandonment.
They often go on to verbalize a desire to transparently receive the child’s input and opinions, work individually and collaboratively on improving the relationship, and take the first steps on the path to healing.
The estranged parent can have a thorough plan and desire to do the necessary work, but get stonewalled. The estranged adult children have locked the door and thrown away the key. This is the point at which neither love nor logic appears to reach the estranged child, and the parent loses, as well as the family at large.
So does the child, whether they realize it or not.
A parent with even brief success at radical acceptance will realize that they have to move on with this unplanned version of life.
I was listening to Guy Clark the other day, and one of my favorite songs of his came on. It seemed to be about exactly the sort of moving on some of us are undertaking:
by Guy Clark
It’s time for a change
I’m tired of that same old same
The same old words, the same old lines
The same old tricks and the same old rhymes
It’s days precious days
They roll in and out like waves
I got boards to bend and I got planks to nail
I got charts to make and I got seas to sail
I’m gonna build me a boat with these two hands
It will be a fair curve from a noble plan
Let the chips fall where they will
Because I’ve got boats to build
Now sails are just like wings
And the wind can make ’em sing
Songs of life, songs of hope
Songs to keep your dreams afloat
I’m gonna build me a boat with these two hands
It will be a fair curve from a noble plan
Let the chips fall where they will
Because I’ve got boats to build
Now shores distant shores
There’s where I’m headed for
Got the stars to guide my way
Sail into the light of day
I’m gonna build me a boat with these two hands
It will be a fair curve from a noble plan
Let the chips fall where they will
Because —
I’m gonna build me a boat with these two hands
It will be a fair curve from a noble plan
Let the chips fall where they will
Because I’ve got boats to build
