Tag: mental health

“Growing up as a kid, we don’t notice that our parents are growing up too.” – unknown

This post was originally published on 6/7/2023. Heads up – you may have already read this.

In the summer of 2015, I was pregnant with two projects. The most obvious was my daughter, but I was also about to give birth to a memoir about my father. My father had died in a bike accident the day after I finalized plans to become pregnant by invitro fertilization. His death kicked off an urgency to take the recordings I’d made of my conversations with him, and finish the effort I’d begun before he died to write about his life.

I spent the nine months of my pregnancy nurturing both projects, afraid that if I didn’t finish the book I might not be able to after my daughter was born. Then on a night in August 2015, at the end of the day on which I’d finished the very last line edits for the book, I went into labor with my daughter.

Essentially, I gave birth to both at the same time. And both events were joyous, scary, and full of “what now?”

I’ve also come to realize that there is another parallel between book projects and children – our understanding of them grows with time. This is the thing that surprises me the most – that with the benefit of hindsight, I continue to learn about what I myself have written. Who knew that was possible?

Here’s what I mean. I recently was reading Vicki Atkinson’s book Surviving Sue which is about Vicki’s journey with her mom, Sue, who suffered from anxiety, depression, alcoholism, Munchausen’s by Proxy, and Alzheimer’s. On the surface, I wouldn’t have drawn parallels between that and my memoir about my beloved father who didn’t suffer from any of those things.

But reading Vicki’s incredibly insightful, entertaining, and reflective words about her mom as she charted a trail through Sue’s life, I realized that we all navigate a path in our parents’ shadow. Whether we dig deep into what that was and write a memoir about it, or choose to go our own way and not think about it, the influence of a parent, present or absent, is powerful.

I think my beloved dad was an incredibly helpful influence on my life – and yet there are habits of his that I still carry, like aversion to conflict, that I need to heal. Maybe even more so because he didn’t do that work.

As I devoured Vicki’s well-written and insightful book about Sue, I found myself engrossed in the themes that Vicki wrote about, including:

• Rethinking our parents as people
• Understanding complicated family members and finding ways to love them anyway
• Tending to unresolved childhood pain
• Secrets and lies and how the weight of distortion impacts mental health
• Dads and daughters and special bonds
• Grace and patience

Whether the themes related to something in my life or not, reading a memoir from someone like Vicki who has done the work to understand the patterns in theirs is so inspirational. Whether our parents were hurtful or helpful, being able to tell their stories is an incredible gift to ourselves to uncover the a-ha of how their touch continues.

As we search for our “why’s” in life – the power behind what motivates us and defines us, figuring out our parent’s why’s is incredibly illuminating. Watching the way that Vicki uncovers that for her mom in Surviving Sue is like being at an archeology dig. Instructive to see the way she teases out the gems, suspenseful as we wade through the project, and thought-provoking for how we can apply it to our own lives. Then we can uncover, as Vicki does so masterfully, the objects and knowledge that give us the power and a chance for intergenerational healing.  

(featured photo from Pexels)

My book about my beloved father is available on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith

Vicki’s book: Surviving Sue print edition

Vicki’s book Surviving Sue Kindle edition