Tag Archives: Mother

Gone with the Wind… Brought back by Grace.

Imagine spending most of your life believing something you were made to believe against your own heart’s intuition. Something that circumstances and your environment kept proving so consistently you finally gave in and condemned your feelings to oblivion, only to find out decades later that the whispers of your heart were telling you the truth all along…

twin-flame-2Once upon a time there was a quiet little Girl. She would placidly observe the adults around her, caught as they were in a perpetual gilded whirlwind of social events and incessant personal dramas enacted like Greek tragedies in the public arena. Nannies of all kinds would ballet in and out of the Girl’s life, according to the latest whim, until the perfect one appeared. Perfect on all levels: Professional, experienced, loving, caring, ethical, dedicated and… too old to be an object of desire for the absentee Master of the house (who although already moonlighting as the Master of many a house, always found time for an additional quick thrill). At 62, the new Nanny was definitely off his radar. But she was a welcomed grand-mother/mother figure for the youngest of his dispersed offspring.

Mamie-consoleNanny instantly became the anchor of the Girl’s life. Hired as a live-in nanny 5 days a week, she became the parent, the grand-parent, the friend, the educator, the confidante, the reference, the unwavering guidance in an environment where inconsistency was otherwise the single constant. It was not only love at first contact, but mutual trust and devotion that bounded the two. The Girl’s Mother would sometimes stop in her swirly tracks to throw a miffed glance at the attachment forging between them, the expression on her face indicating she was feeling robbed of what was rightfully hers. But she would quickly get distracted back to whatever detail was overthrowing her life at that moment.

Nanny had a very large family. Widowed for many years, she had raised 6 children of her own who in turn had several children themselves, from about the Girl’s age to much older. Nanny would often take the Girl to visit her grand-children during weekends and holidays. Nanny and her family hailed from the Basque Country, a collection of regions made of autonomous communities spanning over Southern France and Northern Spain, over the Pyrenees Mountains boarding the Atlantic Coast.

85px-Euskal_Herriko_armarria.svgThe Basque people are notorious for their pride & their willful attachment to independence, only equaled by the love their have for their land & cultural heritage. Nanny’s family reunions had the earthy and boisterous warmth that is customary in these parts. The Girl would find herself in a very different world from what she was accustomed to: impeccable grades, grammar and wardrobe were of little use in this rustic environment, where you had to be out of your head and quick on your feet. Despite a few systematic light bruises and cuts, the Girl would enjoy these family gatherings and would fantasize about Nanny’s grandchildren being her real sisters and brothers. From time to time, there was a vague stigma about being “the bosses’ daughter” and some mockeries about what was considered a privileged and sheltered life. But Nanny would always intervene protectively. As kind as she was, few would dare to question her staunch authority. All in all, the Girl was always welcomed, housed, dined and played with without restrictions in Nanny’s family.

A little over 5 years passed, crucial formative years in a child’s development. Life was fairly happy, fairly safe and fairly stable. Nanny was omnipresent, and she was the true head of the Girl’s household, to both the annoyance and relief of Mother: Nanny was the only one who would dare to stand up to Master when he would show up into a rage. Neither the acidity of his remarks nor the threat of his fists would make her back down. There was little love lost between them. Definitely not the kind of thrills he had grown accustomed to from previous nannies 😉

une-mamie-qui-donne-la-pecheThen came the long annual break of French summer holidays. That year the Girl was sent to some summer camp. Nanny was ailing and she needed to take care of her health. Or so the story went. Her leg did make her suffer often and the Girl would reassure her that when she would be a grownup, she would find solutions for her leg never to hurt again. After the long break, when school started again, Nanny did not return. The Girl had no doubt she would eventually: Nanny was always very forward and she had not mentioned leaving her. Thus the idea never even came to the Girl’s mind. But a few months passed and Nanny was not coming back. The Girl was finally told Nanny was not well and wished to stop working altogether. “But I am not just work” thought the Girl, both crushed and concerned for Nanny. “How is she going to get better if I can’t cuddle her?” And since it was almost Christmas time, the next news came beautifully packaged as a highly desirable gift: the Girl was going to a wonderful boarding school up in the mountains of a neighboring country, in the middle of the school term. She would get to come visit on Easter and summer holidays. “And what about Nanny?!!” the Girl cried.  Disgruntled, Mother retorted “Nanny wants to be with her real grand-children, not with her boss’ child!”

broken-heart-saidaonlineIt’s not just the obvious great dramas that create the most marked turns in our lives. Often, what makes us store something so deep in order to cope, to the point that we simply forget any emotional connection with the event that created a shift in our prehension of the world, is a simple off-handed comment: a remark that most grown-ups would not think about twice. (Although if they were to look back in total honesty, they would have to admit their seemingly inoffensive remark was imbued with the desire to cause harm on the spur of the moment, simply out of annoyance or spite.) Children are docile and loving and do their best to adapt to the wishes of their environment, as they perceive them to be. They often internalize the failures around them and naturally attempt to relieve grown-ups of any fault by blaming themselves. Their loyalty lead them to question themselves before they will question their environment, despite being generally aware of the environment’s inconsistencies. It’s that they love unconditionally.

self-deceptionAnd thus the Girl attempted to adapt to her new reality. She had been a job for Nanny and the job was over: Nanny was not a grandma but a now former employee who had other preoccupations and a real family to focus on. It had been made clear the Girl’s loyalty was to go to her parents and Nanny had to be put back in her rightful place. She complied. But in this new reality nothing made sense and the world quickly went from bemusedly crazy to coldly cruel. The Girl adapted accordingly, grew up tougher and disconnected from many of her sensitive perceptions, since they could not be trusted. If she saw Nanny again once or twice as a teenager, it was no major event, she could not even recall for sure: so many schools, so many camps, so many seasonal nannies and guardians succeeded.

1785452_4656275_lz22+ years passed and a lot of life in between.

© Melissa Pehel www.retouralinnocence.comOne day the now grownup Girl happened to drive through the Basque country on a holiday. As she was looking at the hilly lush green scenery something from way deep inside awoke. It awoke with an undeniable certainty that eliminated any surviving doubt. Without hesitation she stopped the car and ran into a phone booth, wondering if she would find Nanny’s name in the phonebook. She found instead the name of one of her daughters, or so she hoped. She made the call.

A woman answered. She proceeded to explain that she was looking for Nanny, to which the regionally accented voice on the other side enquired defensively who was asking. She gave her name and said that Nanny had raised her when she was little and… she was interrupted by the now emotional voice on the other end: “Is this a prank?” Nanny happened to be at her daughter’s house that day and had answered the phone herself. Plans were immediately made for a reunion the next day by Nanny’s daughter, as Nanny was too emotional to finish the conversation. It was to be a reunion à la Basque, over a buoyant & gargantuan family lunch extending into dinner.

When grownup Girl arrived, Nanny looked in shock, both stunned and elated. There was no doubt this reunion meant a lot to her; her eyes were on the verge of tears even as she couldn’t stop smiling and her heart was pounding so that she admitted to not being able to stay standing up. Nanny was in her nineties by then but had not lost an ounce of sharpness of mind. Throughout the entire lunch, the family members made mocking references to how much their life had been plagued with Nanny’s constant mentions of the Girl’s name, that not one single holiday had ever passed without Nanny sighing longingly over the loss of the Girl. “Girl, Girl, Girl, that’s all we ever heard” they taunted, repeating the Girl’s name in their regional accent. It was the Girl’s turn to be stunned.

Nanny told the Girl how she had pleaded with her parents to let her raise her during school time, since they obviously did not have the time or the space to raise a child. She told her how she had been concerned for her over the years, knowing full well her environment was not a safe one. She told her many things… All the while, the Girl was remembering how she had shut down her feelings for Nanny and denied her as someone of significance in her life, to the point of “forgetting her” for many years.

imagesHow was the Girl to have known otherwise? There had been no good-bye, no warning of the separation, no phone calls, no letters… at least not direct ones. It transpired Mother had received regular news but had not deemed necessary to share them. To the Girl, there had only been rejection in the form of absence, silence and the Mother’s comment, given credence by the memory of the occasional mockeries of Nanny’s grandchildren. And so the Girl had drawn the conclusions that were suggested to her and that helped her best cope with the given circumstances. Her truth ended up locked away for many years.

self_deceptionIf there was a moral to the story, it might be that things are never just what they seem, and that ultimately our heart always knows best. Yet we have no choice but to experience this life within the constraints of Time and Space and sometimes these say “no!”: “not yet, not now, not here”. It’s a delicate balance we have to find between never letting go of the truth in our heart while accepting to follow life’s plan to learn the lessons we came to learn. Hence the importance of a practice that allows this connection with our innermost selves to remain conscious despite the challenges of life.

Developing IntuitionHopefully once we find the balance, everything synchronizes… Or life grants you a compassionate pardon: Nanny lived a few years longer and she and the Girl were able to meet several times, spend long hours together and tell each other all the things they had wanted to say :-)

love-unconditionally

“I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.”

Ernest Dowson, from Non Sum Qualis eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae (1894). Inspired Margaret Mitchell’s novel title Gone With The Wind, turned into the famous 1929 film.