Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler with Joan Z Rough/@joanzrough
“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
I am very pleased to feature memoir writer Joan Z Rough in this guest post on finding forgiveness while writing memoir. Joan is working on a memoir, Me, Myself and Mom: A Journey Through Love, Hate and Healing. I have had the privilege of being one of Joan’s beta readers and can tell you her powerful and well-written exploration of a mother-daughter relationship carries a universal message that will resonate with many.
Welcome , Joan!
Finding Forgiveness While Writing Memoir
I first started writing stories about my family three years after my mother died. A number of friends and acquaintances had told me that my stories were compelling, and filled with life lessons that others would find helpful. I’d written poetry for a number of years and enjoyed writing essays about the natural world. But I knew little about writing about my own life, which is far from spectacular. I wondered who would care.
I was still reeling from the challenges of having been my mother’s caretaker for seven years. For most of that time, she lived in our home, with my husband and me. I was in extreme emotional pain, and felt intense anger toward everyone around me. I knew I was in trouble. I started seeing a therapist who helped me accept and explore the idea that I was struggling with PTSD. I decided to take a “Life Writing” class and started a blog, to share stories with my family and anyone else who might be interested.
Some stories were easy to write. They were about the good times … often humorous, painting my family as typically closely knit, full of love and caring. But as my therapist helped me dig through the past, other stories I’d unconsciously hidden began to rise to the surface. They were about child abuse and the way my parents had treated me when I was a kid. I couldn’t share them on my blog. I was too tender. The bruises left from the last years of my mom’s life were still dark hues of black and blue. Healing was a ways off.
When the word memoir became a frequent word in my vocabulary, I began to see how patterns of abuse and my denial had resulted in frequent depression, and severe anxiety. During the years that Mom lived with me, many of our old ways of behaving had been repeating themselves. I was still trying to be the good girl, desperately seeking her approval. She was rarely happy with me, narcissistic, an alcoholic, someone I hated, yet dearly loved.
When I discovered that the raging fire of anger I was trying to extinguish was directed at my mother, I began looking more closely at her life. I knew that her mother had been considered mentally ill, and that she and Mom had also had a difficult relationship. But my mom was one of those people who hid many of her stories from the light of day. When I began reexamining what I knew about her, I began to see the huge connections that we shared as mother and daughter. We had both been abused by our mothers. Mom self-medicated with booze, and found extreme self-love to be her ticket out of her own recollections of abuse. We both used denial as a salve on our wounded spirits. I struggled with depression and panic attacks. And subconsciously, I believed I had inherited my grandmother’s insanity.
As I continued to work on my memoir, more connections surfaced. Forgiveness for my mother fell into place, diminishing my hatred and anger. The out-of-control flames I had been carrying with me, turned into compassion and understanding. I began to realize that forgiveness is not about forgetting. It’s about acceptance and the willingness to let go of the past.
I found out that I am not insane, and that I could replace my victimhood, with joy and love for all of life.
The following is an excerpt from my upcoming memoir, ME, MYSELF, AND MOM, A Journey Through Love, Hate, and Healing.
After Mom’s death, while packing up our belongings for a move to a new home, a remnant of her past appeared in the form of a well worn, high school year book. Her name was written on the inside front cover. I set it aside wanting to examine it more closely later. Once unpacked, I opened the cover of, “The 1938 Record,” and started turning its pages to see what they could tell me about my mom.
It’s filled with notes from friends … freshman, on up to seniors, who mentioned her sweetness and wished her good luck in life. When I look to see what class she was in, I find no sign of her in the freshman, sophomore, or junior classes. Knowing she had never graduated from high school, I won’t find her in the senior class. I notice that the eighth grade is included in the book. As I scan the group photo, there she is, standing in the back row, a good head taller than the rest of her classmates. Her name is included in the list of students under the photo.
I do the math. She was born in 1923. The year printed on the cover of this yearbook is 1938. I’m stunned. She was fifteen years old at the time and she was in the eighth grade.
Overtaken by deep sorrow, I understand why she had hidden her past. Ashamed that she never finished school, she was like so many who have been abused, taking the blame for the misdeeds she suffered from. I had never put the puzzle pieces of her life together. She didn’t go to high school because she had to work, and by age sixteen she was on her own, working in a lace factory.
This was only one of the discoveries I made about my mother that I hadn’t understood before I found her yearbook. Others came through family members or rereading my journals, where I often scribbled notes to myself and then forgot about them.
The writing process opened my eyes to my own blind spots, bringing me healing and forgiveness, as I learned more about her difficult life.
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Author Bio and contact information:
Joan Rough is an artist, poet, and writer of nonfiction. Her poems have been published in a variety of journals, and are included in the anthology, Some Say Tomato, by Mariflo Stephens. Her first book, AUSTRALIAN LOCKER HOOKING: A New Approach to a Traditional Craft, was published in 1980. She is currently at work on her upcoming memoir, ME, MYSELF AND MOM, A Journey Through Love, Hate, and Healing.
You can follow Joan’s blog on her website at http://joanzrough.com
https:// twitter.com/JoanZRough,
Personal page: www.facebook.com/joanz.rough
Author page: www.facebook.com/JoanZRough.Author
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Thank you Joan for sharing your powerful message of forgiveness through your memoir writing journey and your memoir excerpt. My favorite line that I feel captures the essence of your story is: “The out-of-control flames I had been carrying with me, turned into compassion and understanding.” I am anxious to see your memoir in print.
How about you? Has writing helped you to find forgiveness?
We’d love to hear from you . Please leave your comments below~
ANNOUNCEMENT:
Congratulations, Christina Stark! Your name was select dian a random drawing of commenters to receive a copy of Linda Brendle’s memoir, A Long and Winding Road: A Caregivers’ Tale of Life, Loss and Chaos”.
This Week:
Monday, 7/21: I’m honored to be featured on Tracy Lee Karner’s blog this week. Tracy is a food, travel and creative writer whose main goals include “living creatively, inventively and well and sharing our stories and experiences “.
Next Week:
Monday, 7/28: “ The Birth of a Memoir: Ever Faithful to His Lead Launches”
Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Ever-Faithful-His-Lead-Emotional/dp/0985936797/