When Parents Attack

So I got back from Atlanta last night and the flight was awful but the trip was really good but I don’t want to talk about any of that yet. Instead…

I have a very good relationship with my parents. They live close by and I see them a lot and I am always there for them. I have a sister who is out of her mind and has not spoken to any of us in years and a brother who lives in eastern europe who has not been home in nearly 10 years. My mother is devoted to him and my father is devoted to my mother.

Anyway, last week my Mom asks me to help her with something on the computer that she has to do for my brother. To make a long story short, my brother treats my mother like a slave and asks her to do complex things and she gets glazed with love and does anything for him. Then she sucks me into it when she cannot figure out how to do it. There are more complexities here but basically he emailed 2 docs to her and she was supposed to print them, fill them in and take them to the embassy.

She’s nearly 75 and had tough time figuring out how to print it out. So she forwarded to me and asked me to help. I converted the file to another type and sent it back to her. End of story.

So she takes the docs to the embassy of this eastern European country and the red-tape asshole tells the 75 year old lady who came into the city on a subway in 100 degree heat for her (asshole) son that the doc has a typo. Rejected. Very Stalin-esque.

So it starts all over again (only the typo is on my brother’s side so he needs to re-do and re-send) and she forwards and send etc. etc. Now, when I’m speaking to her on the phone she sounds fine but very tired. So we do the process again and I send it to her and I ask her to let me know if the docs prints OK because it is getting late on Wednesday and I am gearing up for my trip.

But I am annoyed. Because my brother is:
A) Treating my mother like a maid
B) Affecting me

And my mother is going along with it. Why can’t he realize it’s a lot of work for an old lady?

On top of this, I’m really annoyed because I’m sure my brother can do this more efficiently.

To that efficiency, I send her an email from work because I have a lot to do Wednesday night and need to know what is going on. I write the following and do not hear back so I assume it is fine.

Well, cut to today. I am exhausted. I got home last night at 1 and had 4 days of 5:30AM – 1AM days. I called my Mom and left a message at around 1.

So I don’t hear back so I call at 7. My Dad answers and manages to get out “How was your trip” but I can tell he is not listening to my anser.

Then he says “I saw your emails to your mother.”

I had no idea what he was talking about and told him, especially since he’s saying it like I did something bad. And they have the same email address so one would hope whatever I write he sees.

“Those emails about your brother.”

I cringed and said “Is that still going on, with those documents? I thought it was settled.”

“No it’s done, they are taken care of. But those emails to your mother were terrible. So chiding and treating her like a child, she is extremely upset with you, she can’t even talk to you.”

I have a bad temper and I have no idea what he is talking about and then I figure it out. And I start to try to explain that whatever they are construing is just being overly-sensitive because I just wrote a matter of fact email.

Then he goes on and really lays into me about how “terrible they were and I had to agree with her.” He’s talking about them as if I wrote “Mom, you are a filthy cunt!!” I lost it. I said “I can’t believe you are doing this to me. I get home after working 7AM to 1AM every day for a week, get home last night at 1AM from a hellish flight and you’re talking about some email??”

Then, guess what? He hangs up on me. First time for everything.

So, I have to know, I go and I print this email. Here it is:

----

Hi Ma,

Changing margins is a function of the software application being used to print out the file/photo/image/document. I have no control over that from this end. You may be able to do that from your end depending on which software opens up the file for you. It is usually one of the options under "print" or "layout."

All I did, both at work and at home, was use the computer I was working off of's software to open the file and save it as a picture file (The way he was sending it was as an html file, that is why it probably opened up in Explorer) and then send it to you.

The only variable I could introduce at this point is, when I get home tonight, save them as a picture file from my home computer as it uses a different software.

I printed out the documents here. They do look fine but then again I do not work at the consulate.

I know you don't like hearing these kinds of things, but I get some license to complain for spending quite some time on this:

Couldn't he have used an expedited mail service for this? What would he have done 10 years ago before the Internet?

Love, Bart

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What do you think? Perhaps a little snotty, yes, but nothing to get hysterical about.

So, I don’t know how to process this situation. First time. New experience. Where do we go from here? I was furious at first. “Everything I have done for them, images of me at the hospital with them and numerous images of my self-sacrifice. True. Mostly true. Then I picture my idiot brother who she should be blaming.

I think a bit. I calm down.

Well my Mom was hot and exhausted and annoyed and upset at the whole week. The prior Sunday she had been stood up for brunch (no call, nothing) from her grandson whom she has not seen in 10 years. She should take it out on my brother but is incapable. She could even take it out on the consulate. So, I was her breaking point, the person safe to be mad at. So, I get to be the scapegoat. I can live with that. I like roles. I will play along. But I am mad and a little freaked out. Nothing like this has ever happened.

But I call him. I tell him I am ready to talk. I am calm. I do not say “you hung up on me dickhead, grow up.”

First, I tell him that I think I was a catalyst for how she has been feeling. I read the email. It is very matter of fact to me. It was written from work and is pure, emotionless business writing. I tell him I was mad at my brother and that was why I put in the last part. I tell him importantly that I did not intend to hurt her (This is what gets me—they both think that I set out to write some nasty email to hurt her. Who do they think I am?) I say a lot. All very open, honest and letting it all hang out.

He says nothing about anything except “Well you criticize your brother for not being here and not doing things for your mother yet your mother asked you for help, why can’t you just help her and forget what she needs help for?”

“I did help her.” But he does not like the way I helped her. He basically will go no where near my reasoning and keeps getting back to the email which to me is the least important things here. What is the reason behind her feelings?

Then I tell him that the most important thing is that she know that I did not set out to hurt her. And he says “I know, I can tell from your voice that you mean that.” What the fuck does that mean? So I say “Dad, I’m not 10 years old. You don’t need to tell from my voice whether I’m telling the truth or not. I’m telling you so, so that is what makes it the the truth. Do you really think I would set out to deliberately hurt her?”

Then he tells me “that he will get back to me.” He sounds like a HR person or a potential new client. All pokerfaced and serious. I’ll get back to you after I talk to your mother. Oh. OK. If I don’t hear from you does that mean I did not get the job?

I think so many things are wrong here:

They cannot communicate and when they do it is after things fester for far too long. My Mom keeps things in and my Dad doesn’t see anything.

So, I get a surprise attack.

I do not have a crystal ball. The only way I know if something is bothering you is if you tell me.

It’s evident my father thinks I’m the same person I was when I was a little boy and uses the same manner of communicating with me. He can tell when I’m lying? What’s to lie about? We’re all grown up here. It’s not about who broke his pen or took $5 from his wallet.

My mother is the same person who recently told me father after 40 years of the same behavior and never complaining about it that she wanted him to change or else.

My Dad makes things worse by blindly defending my mother from a perceived attack which is chivalrous but does no good. He should be translating and making things better.

He should be helping her, too, instead of playing this role. I really think he is so emotionally simple that he would be happy with my saying “I was feeling really tired and I am sorry. “

I really get the strangest feeling with both of them that I could tell them I am never speaking to them again and they would fold. What is wrong with them? They are just not fighters. They seem to expect bad things to happen to them and almost encourage them.

For years I defended her behavior with my sister, but I do not know any more. Really. Perhaps the only reason it has not happened yet is because my mother and I are somewhat similar. My grandmother was, too. I think the three of us have a certain sangfroid that manifests itself differently. A certain socio-pathic gene.

The commonalties we share(d) (Not every one of them for all three of us, but combinations):

A giant ego.
A mistrust of others
A lack of sentimentality
No fear of death.
Enjoying solitude.
Manipulation

My grandma more or less had all of them. She was like Balzac’s Cousin Bette.

My mother has some of them but is stymied by her (primal) love for her children, her odd sentimentality for things evocative of the past and her lack of a quick wit and academic intelligence (which never impeded my grandmother) but her ego is fueled by her thinking her common-sense observations are worthy of a prize.

And I, version 3, seem to be the best thus far in that thanks to getting out of Napoli and introducing some Northern European genes into the lineage I have my father’s intelligence.

Here’s what I would like to say, but cannot and will not:
Dad-You don’t trust me. You are never going to get over things that happened when I was a little boy, are you? Well, I’m not a little boy any more and can defend myself so here we go:

Both-My brother was horrible to me growing up. Horrible. He said and did cruel things to me and I never felt like he had my back.

Mom-I think when he was 5 he hated me for taking his Mommy away. You will feel guilty about that for the rest of your life. Then, when he got a little older he either detached from me or was cruel to me.

Dad-One of the few ways you could bond with him was through belittling me through sarcasm. Father and son bonding. It hurt me deeply. I spent my first 10 years in tears. It was not normal brother/brother fighting because he was not 2 or 3 years older but 5.

Mom-And mother? She looked the other way. Turned the other way. Because Bart was a different type. He could take care of himself. But I was only a little boy.

I remember you said to him “why do you treat your brother that way?” And he said “Because it’s a tough world and I want him to be prepared.”

As if he was doing some great fucking public service. What self-serving bullshit. He was doing it because he was in pain and it made him feel better. He was hurting me the living embodiment of his pain when the real source of his pain was his mother.

So, today the same pattern continues. Only, we all have mellowed and have filters. I certainly do not care any more. I am a fully realized human being.

So maybe I get a little sharp and impatient with you because you never protected me. I have no idea. Maybe not.

They have no idea who I am. And the best part is, I’m really OK with this. I’m old enough now and I have been through so much. They don’t hold much power any more over me emotionally. It’s a faded effect, a memory of power, a phantom pain. But I do feel bad for them. I do. They are old and in some kind of emotional pain over this and it is so pathetic, meaning sad. And it makes me sad that they would think that I would deliberately be cruel to them. I don’t know. I think they both don’t believe that they can be loved. I don’t know.

I do know however, that I love them both so much which is why this is so difficult. I’ll keep you posted.