People who equate truth with fact are missing the point.

As Predictable As Rain In Seattle

As predictable as sleepless nights with a newborn…

As predictable as spring winds in Albuquerque…

As predictable as taxes on April 15 in the US…

That’s how predictable I am.

My sons are both nearly perfect physical replicas of their fathers, what people have called, ever since those weird Austin Powers movies, a “mini me.” But where Carter has some aspects of his father’s personality and some of mine, and mostly is his own self entirely, Jacob isĀ temperamentally (nearly) identical to his dad, Robert.

Face-to-face with Jacob when he is angry at me, I am again the woman I was when I was married to Robert.

My God, how I hated that woman. Robert and I brought out the worst in each other; the extent to which we were mismatched would be comical if we had divorced before we had children. As it is, we did have children, and our story is almost all tragedy.

I want to leave that woman behind, the woman I was between 1990, when I met Robert, and 1997, when we divorced. I want to pretend that she was born of that ill-fated relationship, an anomaly, not, somehow, a part of me.

But, of course, she is me. Faced with Jacob’s angry words that mirror Robert’s, I feel those terrible/familiar feelings, respond in those terrible/familiar ways, become that woman I despise. I am so predictable, I want to tear out my hair and gouge my eyes so that I can feel something different than this shattering, crushing, smashing in my chest.

Jacob is my baby, the person who made me a mother. He is the flaxen-haired beauty who I called Tooter until he was three. On his first day of kindergarten, I arrived two hours early to pick him up and waited, anxiously, in the car for the final bell, and then did the same thing on his first day of middle school.

By his first day of high school, I had been uninvited from his day-to-day life.

Today, he hates me. Whether the hate is born of ordinary seventeen-ness or if it is a product of the fractures and battles in our family, he hates me. My fault, his fault, or nobody’s fault, he hates me.

I love him as much as I ever did, but this…

This hurts in my hair and my toenails and my mitochondrial DNA.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

24 comments to As Predictable As Rain In Seattle

  • You are so strong to share your story and my heart breaks for you. Instead of focusing on his feelings for you (which do not define you, and neither does your anger) why not focus on the tremendous heart you have been given!? Many would not be able to continue to love as you do. You have a precious gift in your unconditional love. It isn’t fair to have to live this way but remember how well built you are. Celebrate the love you have for him. And know that even if your great love can’t change him you have done right by you both. Keep the faith.

  • Sigh. It sounds like you hurt something awful. Wait him out. He will get it.

    I truly believe that, so long as you are doing the work on your self, on your side, one day that beautiful, angry, hurt boy is going to need that love you are holding for him like a fragile shell. And if you can persevere, and I’m pretty sure you can, you will be ready for him.

    More hugs from here.

  • Oh, Adrienne. I don’t know what to say. The depth and breadth of you pain is simply palpable. I hope some day soon it turns around, gets easier, that his heart softens again towards you. And until then, hugs.

  • Oh Adrienne…

    All I can say is I’m sorry that you hurt.

    I’m sorry. And I wish I could take even a little of that hurt away.

  • I have such a lump in my throat right now.

    I can’t even imagine,,,I just can’t.

    I’m so sorry.

    Thank god, you at least have your words.

  • I’m so sorry that you two are not getting along right now. Hopefully it has more to do with being a teenager than anything else. I hope someday soon you two will be able to mend fences.

  • When we don’t know what we need it is impossible to ask others for it. I am as sure as I can be that your son needs you; he just doesn’t know how to identify or articulate what he feels. I think too that it is really hard on the kids when the relationship between their divorced parents isn’t particularly friendly.

    I’m sorry you are the target of his anger. I can’t imagine how difficult that is to cope with. Its one thing to shut the door on the anger and hatred of an ex-spouse, another entirely to have it directed at you by your child. I am thinking of you.

  • BethRd

    I am so sorry. For what you’re going through… and for what I probably put my mother through when I hated her at seventeen. The reasons I hated her weren’t entirely imaginary and stayed a factor in our relationship once I grew up, but the lack of perspective on my part? THAT was a side effect of my seventeen years and it was probably harder on her than I’ve ever realized. My mother and I never had a movie-perfect mother-child relationship, but there was love and there were happy days. I hope hope hope the same happens with you and Jacob.

  • This hurts in my hair and my toenails and my mitochondrial DNA.<—

    Oh my God Adrienne, this pain must be horrific. I cannot come up with anything that feels even half way close to helping to soothe you.

    Don't give up on him.

    My kids both went through many changes from 17 to 19 to 21.

    Keep on being the mom you are and loving him from afar if you need to.

    My prayer is that someday this wound will heal and you will find a connection again.

    I hurt just reading this, so I cannot IMAGINE living it.

    heavy heart reading over here babe

    that is all

  • Sue

    He doesn’t hate you. The theory of retrogenesis goes that in Alzheimer’s disease, the first thing you lose is the last skill you learned. In all normal human development, that skill is insight. This is why persons with Alzheimer’s don’t know when it’s time to stop driving, don’t recognize when they’re self centered, can’t sympathize with the paces they are putting their loved ones through. Critical thinking and reasoning are the first things to go. They are followed by other skills, lost sequentially in reverse until only basic survival functions remain (breathing, swallowing, reflexes).

    He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t have insight. It’s not in his mitochondrial DNA to acquire it for another 4 or 5 years. Your tremendous task is to love him and keep him safe. This is why his age group/demographic are the most frequent victims of accidental death- judgment and insight don’t exist yet. When insight is born after age 22, he will love you back.

    He doesn’t hate you. Smooth your hair back down and know that million of mothers before you have felt this way. It is not predictable you, it’s predictable normal development.

    If you ask me, he’s a lucky lucky boy.

  • I am so sorry that you are hurting so much. {{HUGS}}

  • I cry when I read these posts because I simply cannot imagine Eddie doing this to me. I internalize your words…your story…and I start hurting for you.

    mother to mother.

    boy mom to boy mom.

    phantom pains in my soul for you.

  • Your pain is so palpable and all I can say is I’m sorry. I have no doubt my own mother felt the same way about my younger brother many times over the years, particularly when he was lost in a world of drugs and self-loathing that he projected onto anyone and everyone, but mostly our parents. Now he’s 32, clean, with more maturity and insight, and they have a strong, healthy relationship.

    A mother’s love is infinite and unconditional. Your son is lucky to have a mother like you.

  • Meg

    Adrienne – I am so sorry. Reading that made me hurt for you šŸ™ That is such a tough situation. I hope it gets better with time.

  • Oh friend, I don’t know what to say. Can’t even imagine that pain.
    I feel your pain through your words. Know I am thinking of you.

  • my heart aches for you. and for jacob. and all that is lost and missing and hurting. i have hope for reconciliation. i do. i hold onto that hope for you.

  • I was here but as it turns out, I have no adequate words.

    So I was just . . . here.


  • Ouch, I worry about saying the same thing when my son gets older, I feel like Iā€™ll take the brunt of raising him.

  • I firmly believe that all women named Adriane/Adrienne should never marry men named Robert/Bob. Ever. I HATED the person I was with Robert as well. That was NOT me. I feel every bit of your pain when you see yourself responding the same way to your son. But look at you. You are AWARE you are doing it. And this gives you a jumping off point to turn it around.
    I am so so sorry for your pain right now. It has to be horrible. But I do believe that it will get better.

  • Lori

    I think you are a brilliant writer, and love that you are so open about your feelings. But…posts like this, if I were Jacob, would keep me running away from you. It’s suffocating. He needs freedom, and as someone upthread said, much of this is normal teenage boy behavior that would happen even in different circumstances.

    Let him go! He’ll come back when he’s ready.

  • Brooke

    You know … I absolutely do not know the pain you’re describing, and I know that. And I won’t, for many years, and perhaps not ever.

    But I do know this: I had a conversation with my mother the other day in which she referenced my hating her when I was a teenager. And I corrected her. And said, “Mom, I never hated you. I never said I hated you, ever. I loved you, very much. And I have tortured journal entry after tortured journal entry from high school in which I tried, very hard, to see things from your point of view. Mostly I failed. But I was trying, because I loved you.”

    And after a few exchanges of “Really?” she got very thoughtful and said, “You know, I wish I’d known that at the time.”

    What I didn’t say was that even reading those journal entries of mine at the time probably wouldn’t have made a difference in her grief about our relationship, because the two of us were so darn mad at each other that it felt very much like hate, to both of us.

    But it *wasn’t.* It never was. And when it counts, you can rely on that fact. Whatever this is, and whatever else he feels, your son is your son, and he loves you.

    The problem with this is that right now his love feels just as wounding as hate would. And I wish there were any way at all to make that easier. But there’s not. I’m so sorry.

    Just know: there was a time, a long time, during which I thought my relationship with my mother was permanently fractured, utterly beyond repair. But love is a miracle. And it is also very, very patient.

    And so now I get to hold her sometimes and tell her she was a wonderful mother all along. And for all the hurt it took to get here … there’s a blessing, in that.

    Grace, to you and yours.


  • I’m late BUT I’m here and thinking of you.

    I’m going to say this: I don’t think he hates you like you think he hates you. He loves you. He’s confused and frustrated and lonely and angry. And maybe you have screwed up some and he sees only that right now. But it won’t always be that way. Love him. He’ll come around or you will both build a new relationship. You will. Because one day he will be a grown-up and realize how much adults hurt and don’t know.

    Hugs to you and yours.

  • Myrtle Wooten

    I think you are a brilliant writer, and love that you are so open about your feelings. You will. I think too that it is really hard on the kids when the relationship between their divorced parents isnā€™t particularly friendly. He loves you.

Leave a Reply




You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>