I had an good talk with the mother of one of my students this evening.
A little history: My student, “Jenny” is a very sweet, precocious little girl in the 6th grade. I started working with her this summer, helping improve her math so she could start at a private girl’s school. When the school year started, she was still having trouble with math so we resumed tutoring. She’s a warm kid with a great sense of humor and a beautiful head of curly brown hair. She incredibly creative, always painting, practicing her violin, the piano or working as a mother’s helper. It’s always a delight to work with a student like her.
When I got to her house today, Jenny wasn’t home, but her mom was. They had forgotten I was coming and Jenny couldn’t get home in time to meet me. After her mom and I rescheduled for after the holidays she offered me a cup of tea and some homemade cookies. How could I refuse?!
She invited me to sit and we started chatting. She’d just had her wisdom teeth pulled that afternoon and made a passing comment about hating to be in pain and “alone.” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about… I’ve never seen the student’s dad and they’ve only mentioned him in passing, so I assumed that they were separated or divorced.
I told her about our plans to go to see my parents in Santa Fe for Christmas and in New Jersey in January. (More about THAT tomorrow!) She asked which place my parents lived. I told her that my mom has lived in NM for the past year while my dad finished up his job. She asked how that worked for their relationship. For them, I said, it worked pretty well… In fact, for THEIR relationship, it worked better than when they lived together! “Independence can be a good thing.” I laughed.
“Yeah…” she said, “Unless it’s forced upon you…” I got the feeling that she was hinting at something, so I decided to ask.
“You mentioned that earlier… about being alone when you’re sick… I wasn’t sure, are you and your husband separated?”
“No. Jenny’s dad died a while ago, when she was five.” I told her how sorry I was to hear this and she thanked me.
“Jenny’s never mentioned it to me, so I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good thing. There used to be a time when she felt like she HAD to tell everyone she met.” I agreed.
“Is Jenny a lot like her dad?” Her mom nodded and I thought I saw her eyes get moist.
“Yeah, her dad was an artist and a musician like her. He was a chef and a stay at home dad so they were always together.” I wanted to keep talking to her but I wasn’t sure what to say next. I remarked on how hard it must be on her – losing her spouse and being a single mom. I knew they’d been married a long time before they even had Jenny. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose your husband of 17 years and father of your 5 year-old daughter.
“Yeah, we moved into this house almost exactly 20 years ago. We were really great friends… always got along really well. It’s like we started this plane trip together and halfway through I lost my co-pilot.” She said. I told her that my husband and I are in the process of trying to start a family.
“I’ve had a lot of health problems in the past and I know that’s a huge concern for my husband… that something will happen to me and he’ll be left a single parent. He almost lost me a few years ago and that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do... to watch him going through that.”
And so she asked about what had happened to me and I told her. She didn’t seem to freak out or get uncomfortable. I’m pretty good about talking about my diagnoses and past in a non-threatening way. She’d never heard of Borderline Personality Disorder, of course, so I got another chance to educate someone about it and put a good face on the diagnosis. It’s a little embarrassing, but it helps to de-mystify the illness. I try to remind myself that I have nothing to be embarrassed about.
“Wow, so you’ve been through a lot.” She said, very warmly. “So you understand… you never know what’s going to happen in life.” We talked about Jenny a while longer and then her mouth started hurting so I said goodbye, wishing her a Happy New Year.
When I got home, I felt bad that I hadn’t asked her more about her husband – like I had talked too much about myself. I Googled him and found out that they used to run a local restaurant. I knew the mom was a foodie, but I never realized that she was a chef. I was so struck by what a unique and lovely family they were and still are. Hearing about a tragedy like that… I dunno. It’s heartbreaking and strangely… uplifting. It’s heartening to see how well Jenny and her mom have done on their own. Impressive really.
Postscript: The homemade cookies were chocolate with hot pepper. This seems to be a big trend right now – adding spice and heat to chocolate. I like spicy food and I like chocolate, but the combination… eeech! I don’t get it!
3 comments:
darn! i thought i posted this comment yesterday...
i really liked this post. i'm sure she likes you even more after this visit and didn't think that you talked to much about yourself. you have always been so good at talking with people about difficult topics. i bet jenny's mom appreciated that you picked up on what she was saying and that you are a caring, thoughtful person.
This sounds like a lovely interlude, it's the kind of REAL exchange that makes life rich.
I wish on some level I had the ability to simply talk about borderline personality disorder, but I don't -- not to people who don't have it.
I love to talk to people with it, especially sad people, to show them the example of me who has made tremendous strides to recovering from this "untreatable" condition. It is so treatable.
I am so ashamed of having this condition, so afraid it means something terrible about me. In fact, I'm pretty sure it does mean something about me, and I hate the idea of confronting that ...
I'm enjoying your blog.
Kristine - That's so interesting, what you said about conversations like that making life rich. I thought the same thing writing the post last night, but I wasn't sure how to say it! I didn't want it to sound like I LOVED hearing about tragedies... but I do love getting to know people on more than a superficial level which is what that conversation allowed us to do.
It's fascinating to learn about the hurdles and obstacles people have to overcome. I suppose I shouldn't respect people more just because they've had a difficult life... but I do.
Which leads me to your comments about yourself. I really identified with them. It IS hard not to be ashamed of BPD. It can be such an ugly illness - making us behave in ways that embarrass and humiliate us. When an illness effects your personality, it's hard not to think that you're the one who's bad.
I think that's why I like to be an ambassador for the illness. The more I convince people like that parent last night that Borderlines are decent, responsible people, the more I believe it myself.
Glad you're enjoying the blog. Thanks!
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