Hi Everyone,
I'm Carol D. O'Dell, and boy, can I relate to many of the posts I've read here. I cared for my mom for fifteen years after my dad died and during that time she developed Parkinson's, had to stop driving, began to fall, was hospitalized several times, and had two mild heart attacks BEFORE she would conset to moving in with me. I "forced" her hand by moving out of state and insisting she come.
She spent the last three years of her life with me, her only duaghter as her full-time caregiver (we hired some help, but as anyone knows who's dealt with this, it's piece-meal and oftentimes relies on the winds from the insurance gods (lower g for sure) to favorably blow your way).
Her three years with me were everything from tender to hilarious, to poignant, to gut-wrenching to infuriating and beyond. This was not only due to her and her Baskin and Robbins assortment of moods, but also the hassles of medical care, health issues, and then...Alzheimer's reared its cruel horns.
My saving grace was that I was a writer (and a lifetime journaler) before I started caregiving, so I turned to the page. I wrote every day. I wrote our fights, our tears, our darkest moments, and even her passing.

So yes, I read your posts and feel for what you're going through.

I learned a lot about my mohter as she began to open up and tell me about her mother--not just the typical fare of how sweet she was, how good she was, but finally, small snippets of how my mother had been impacted by her began to surface. I learned a lot.

It's an interesting thought. It's reveals a lot of their defenses, idiosyncracies, and vulnerabilities. We're all so very connected when it comes right down to it.

I can truly say that caregiving taught me so much about myself--in good and not so good ways, but in the end, I leanred to accept us both.

Looking forward to hearing from some of you.
~Carol O'Dell
author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter's Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir
www.mothering-mother.com

I live in a family of the disappearing mothers. They were both wealthy, spoiled and left their children.
My grandmother was a model and left my mother when my mother was 4. My mother was flown places and sent by train to visit her mother in major cities and recieved huge and full of designer clothing "gift packages," from her mother all of her life. I met her twice and that was that.

My mother was gone with I was 13. She was a successful painter and of some note when she left, took her trust fund, and decided enough was enough from my father and I believe, her four children.
My mother popped back up when I was an adult, a young adult and began particapating in my life but at my instigation. She still only sees me when I reach out to her. She still lives off a trust fund and does what she likes.

She put me on television when I was 5. She backed me as an artist, being one herself and never told me it was impractical. She believed in dreams and following your own. She had good taste and taught me very much about art.

And her intuition regarding me is unnerving. LOL.

I am from a very strange family. Two young parents going through "the happening."

dancer

By the time this forum, finishes this topic thread, there will be contrasting portraits of grandmothers & mothers.

Many of the immigrants who came to North America during 20's to 50's, from Asia....particularily didn't expect to see their loved ones in ancestral land....ever again...particularily from low-income families.

Air and ship travel was either expensive or time-consuming at that time. So both my parents never saw their parents after they immigrated to Canada (each did their own journey) in their early 20's during the 1950's.

So imagine never seeing your parents forever at that age, and striking it out in a country totally different culture and language.

All my grandparents died in China in their 60's or earlier. My maternal grandmother died after dental surgery...I guess things were abit primitive in care. She lived in a rural area and died in the early 1970's. The 1970's was the height of Communism in China. I remember my mother receiving a letter and crying.

We will probably never know about grandmother's personality because I have lost alot of my fluency in my mother tongue, Chinese. And since my mother hardly knows much English, you can imagine the gulf of understanding and conflict. (This is why I wsupport (VERY STRONGLY) retention of lst language mother father tongue fluency in North America, in addition to English language, ....for family harmony and personal self-growth in global /multicultural understanding.)

My grandmother had 8 children over a 20 year period with Grandpa. My mother is the 2nd youngest of all. She does relay stories cooking for her older brothers, you know the men. I don't think she enjoyed this chore. Grandma was a housewife, wife to a low-middle income jeweller.

I believe my mother's personality has been profoundly shaped by living with difficulties as an immigrant wife here in Canada where she had no support to raise 6 children while my father was at work in a restaurant. None of her siblings or any relatives were around for first 15 years. And when they came, it was just for visiting one another and by then, sheer stress of childraising was abating abit, when older kids (like myself) could take on some chores. (I remember teenagehood not as carefree, but more full of responsibilities.)

My mother is often, controlling woman who does indulge in spitefulness, much to her adult children's amazement. This has become abit worse over the years. Despite this temperment, she has truly been a mother supportive in the traditional sense, to her family. It amazes me that my father has remained an incredibly calm, patient person for so long.

My mother is a picture bride, she met my father via letters when he was in Canada as a young man, looking for a wife. Yes, when she immigrated and stepped off the plane in Toronto, she was going to marry a...stranger. So my mother is and knows it, that she is very fortunate to have married a genuinely kind, patient man..who helps with housework, cooking now.... I have mentioned my 78 yr. father here on this forum before, in terms of his excellent health.

When I see my mother, I see a woman who does have incredible strength and potential, but gone awry. She has gr. 10 level education and if life was a different, what she would have become? Look to her daughters now, they are the manifestation of what she could have been.

In a way, despite all the conflict, I know that she is proud of us.

Sorry, this post just couldn't about my grandmothers..because if I knew...it will most likely be alot later..if ever. I could only guess my paternal grandmother was probably different woman ...just based on my father's personality and his sister's personality.

What an interesting question? My maternal grandmother died when I was three and my paternal grandmother died before I was born. I am excited to discuss this topic with my oldest sister. I don't think I've ever seriously considered how Mom was like her mother because I never knew her.

Another question to ponder would be how we think we've impacted our daughter's lives.

It's very interesting,isn't it, Orchid, when there are strong cultural factors in your childhood. My father was first gen. Italian from Venice so I was raised very, very European.
I'll be you would be very interesting to speak to on the subject of your family. They seem very strong...
dancer9

My story could not be written without the influences of my maternal grandmother and her influence on my mother, and therefore on me. My mother was 1st generation Italian born in NJ. I was delivered by the same doctor who delivered my mother! The oppressions of a patriarchal society led to women being silenced in my family. However silenced my grandmother might have been as a woman, she was outspoken as a business woman. She faced discrimination as an Italian, and as a woman, when she had to take over my grandfather's business. He died of a heart attack when she was 43. I have explored this topic of cultural influence in my family. When I returned to college in my forties, an assignment was to write an essay about our cultural roots. I was ready because I had visited this topic on my own. However, many (almost all) of the students in their late teens and early twenties had no idea of their cultural roots. I was surprised by this. I think knowing your ancestry helps you to know who you are. I am glad I got to the "root" of some of the "problems" in my family.

I was fortunate to have my mother, my mothers mother, and my mothers mothers mother, all at my graduation. We have a photo of the four gernerations of Italian women...It is a treasure that I hold dear.

My Great Grandmother was the "handy wife" she assisted at birth and laid people to their rest.This was prior to midwives and the usual thing in Scotland.
My Granmother took on the informal role..where she gave help when asked.For no cost.She befriended those in need.
My Mother was left with me as baby in 1947 and returned to work.Grandmother reared loved and with Grandad made me a much loved child.Mother remarried ..I stayed at "home".Mother died and it was a if a sister had died.
So in explaining what impact my Grandmother had I have no way of asking my Mother.I do understand the bond was there between Gran and I and remained until her death..and beyond.Grandfather too was my hero.
No family is the same but strong women can rise to the occassion.
Mountain ash

I love this topic! I learned early on that to truly understand my Mom or Dad I had to look into their background. I was able to get past any anger with Mom by knowing all this. Mom was physically and sexually abused by her father for any reason he cared to give. She was always so angry and would admit at times that it was because of him and how unprotected she felt her mother was. Her father was an angry alcoholic, much like his own father and couldn't....or didn't stop the generational influence. So Mom was a "rager"....often angry and quick tempered, although my own father would not let her carry on this horrible influence. I enjoyed my maternal grandmother who was fun, zany and gave me my crazy sense of humor. In 1988, my Mom and I went to my grandmother's home in Long Beach, CA. and spent two weeks. By day we had a great time and by evening it would get testy and Mom cried herself to sleep everynight (my grandfather had died in 1971). I'm thankful for that time because it was to be the last time I saw my grandmother. I think all this was partly because our parents generation were, by far, less likely to seek help and therefore held so much inside throughout their lives. My grandfather also sexually abused me for years. By the time I was in my twenties I sought out counseling and came to terms with this, although it took years. My Mom was a good woman and loved her kids. Unfortunately, her background and her anger at her father and ultimately with her mother ruled her life much of the time which was so sad. After a 14 year battle with Alzheimer's I lost my Mom two years ago.

Chatty Lady,
As an Italian woman myself, I know how wonderful that must have been! I lost my grandmother when I was very young so I never had that feeling. You must be very proud!
dancer