Getting lost on the way home

I love the parts about 'she did the best she could' and about having compassion. That says measures about you, about your growth as a person.....I am so glad your Mom could be honest too; it seems as though her regret and sorrow are genuine.
Over the years I have come to this place in regards to my parents too.....they did the best they could, given the circumstances, their own issues, my brother's issues, etc. I know they feel as though they failed....my dad has had severe health issues the last couple years, heart attack and then a severe manic episode, followed by a equally severe depression....he is also sensitive to most medications they tried and had bad reactions to those and is now cognitively impaired. In the midst of a depression, he couldn't stop despairing over all the things he thought he had done wrong as a father. And to see him now, like a helpless child for whom my mother has to do so much.....well, I feel such an ache of sorrow and compassion for them both, there is little room for anger toward them anymore at all, just a sad sort of love.
I know too that underneath the anger we so often felt the brunt of there was a kind of love. But they didn't know just how to love, or how to not let the anger run away with them....they thought punishing, and punishing harshly, was part of love. Well, understanding those things has at least helped me not be angry with them and feel compassion for them.....now I need to learn how to let go of the anger against myself, the self-hatred, the lack of compassion toward myself before I'm completely free of those wounds....

Before this thread slips off the map, I want to say thanks for all the wise and thoughtful responses. This board is a special place.

The look on her face is haunting me. It was hard to bear.

I hope that someday you will find this.

PAYNE, I'm glad you got that apology and healing. (My mother had a difficult childhood too, including SA.)

chaotic, you always seem to understand so well where I am at. Your experience with the drunk man provides an example of how we can still heal, long after our parents have died. Thanks for sharing that.

Perna, thanks for sharing the stories from your childhood. I could relate a lot to the "tone" of what you told.

Thanks PoetG. What you wrote reminds me of how a couple of months after my first child was born, my parents came for a visit. My Dad and I went out walking with my baby in the stroller, she started crying, and I picked her up to comfort her. I held and rocked her and rubbed her back. My Dad commented that he liked how I was with my baby and that he wished he and my mom had done things differently when we were little. My parents were very emotionally withholding when we were young--no expressions of love, hugs, physical affection, etc., not to mention the violence--and I took my Dad's comments to mean he wished they had been more loving to their children. It seemed like he had felt love but something had stopped him from expressing it. It turns out that their philosophy of being tough and rigid with their young children was based in part on a popular baby book of the day, which said that you had be tough with kids, not comfort them when they cried, let them cry themselves to sleep so they developed good coping skills, etc. etc. Like it was considered bad to show love, caring, give comfort, etc.? I had the impression that especially my mom wanted to raise the kids by this book (perhaps it was "the thing to do" in their area and era), and my Dad fell into line, deferring to her parenting preferences because she was the mother. Anyway, it was very healing to me to hear my Dad say he wished they had done things differently (essentially, that he wished he had been more loving). It helped me consider that maybe he really had loved me, even though he hadn't expressed it.

Sounds like you have come a long way, PoetG. I wish you well on the rest of your journey.