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I have to say that as I work with the transcription of my mother’s October through December 1965 letters I can ‘feel’ and ‘see’ and ‘smell’ insecure attachment disorder smeared all over them — well, perhaps rude to say — but like feces.

She is NOT a happy woman.  She appears completely, miserably self absorbed.  She does not seem to be even remotely involved with any of her children.  I get the sense that our mother was, well, DEAD.  We didn’t HAVE a mother present — she isn’t even in her letters.  She doesn’t exist.

None of her children seem to have any more importance to her than would a piece of furniture — if even that much.  She does not appear to have ANY joy in anything, certainly not in us — not even in her 4 1/2 or her 8 month old sons.  I wouldn’t even BELIEVE it would be possible for anyone to whine as much as she does in these letters — if I wasn’t reading it with my own eyes!

Someone stole our real mother, aliens maybe, and left us this empty plastic shell of a mean mother instead.  Is this my depersonalization and derealization that makes my mother herself not feel real to me in these letters — hollow, shallow, empty and without dimension?  No, I think that’s how she really was.

I have completed transcription of as many of these as I can find for 1965 — not very many!  All of dad’s letters to her, and all but one of grandmother’s letters to her are missing — makes me wonder if she destroyed them.   One way or the other, they appear to be lost.

*1965 MOTHER’S LETTERS

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