I must have done something terrible. Why else would you move house without telling me where to? I am left to guess what gross act I have perpetrated that would cause you to simply stop communicating with me. What did I do? Are you dead? How would I know?
I can only guess that this stems from my continued contact with my father, your ex-husband. Your divorce when I was in my 20s was a typically curious affair. You left home in small degrees, on the pretext of visiting your parents in another county. Unbeknown to Dad, you were setting up a new home there. Then there was some peculiar arrangement where no one was supposed to know you and Dad were divorcing, so we couldn’t talk about it in front of him.
Some years later, you came to my wedding. I had a son and you congratulated us, but all the while I had this sensation that everything I did was a disappointment to you. The fact that I was still in touch with Dad was clearly a problem.
Then I got a call from my brother (who has also drifted out of my life). I should cease contact with Dad immediately, he said. But no clear indication of why. And that encapsulates the strange nature of our family. The terrible secrets, the high emotional barriers. What did Dad do that was so terrible? What I do know is that, in the 70s, Dad disappeared for a year. I never knew why. One day two men turned up and took you into the kitchen. What news did they impart that made you look so desolate? Dad eventually came back and everything seemed to return to normal.
On the rare occasion that I see him now, the last thing I want to do is ruin a visit by dredging up what is probably a painful episode. I am the only family member still in touch with him, so he enjoys my visits immensely; I feel that tackling this issue would be ungracious. I suppose I also fear that whatever answer he does give may be something I don’t want to hear.
You and I last spoke on the phone 10 years ago. The last time I saw you, our son was a toddler. Somehow you have managed the remarkable feat of being totally invisible. All I have left is an email address, but nothing I send there now is acknowledged.
You are still my mother and I still love you. But you have chosen to edit yourself out of my life. Even if we never spoke again, I would like to understand why
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