Generational Shame

Secreta Secretorum
~Latin For~
Secret of Secrets

Iterative Consequences

Our family lineage has been progressively and compulsively disintegrating in the wake of my grandfather’s actions. Many in our family tree have immersed themselves in drugs and alcohol to numb the pain that resides as a latent malignancy. The cycle of suffering has manifested itself consciously and unconsciously. Like radioactive waste, the fallout scattered throughout our family tree. After my sister, Kitty’s death in 2009, her two adult sons, (Shawn and Chad) committed suicide due to the consequential effects of their drug habits inherited from their mother.

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Possessio Ventus
~ Latin for ~
Inheriting the Wind
Proverbs 11:29

Generational Inheritance

Welcome to the fourth installment of My Mother’s Story and Mine. I offer you, the reader, an invitation to follow the path on which I have labored in making sense and finding meaning of my maternal family history. This solemn narrative has developed as I have developed, ripened as I have cultivated my thoughts, and effloresced as I continue to pour out of my heart into written word. This series of blogs titled, My Mother’s Story and Mine reveals our painful family history and is now shared vulnerably as a case study with my professional and personal assessments. Which is to say the only real authority in which I am able to speak, is from my perspective. It is my narrative as I experienced myself in our family.
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Edictum Doloris
– Latin for ~
Manifesto of Pain

Generational Shame

The following poem was penned by my mom
in the wake of her Evangelistic father’s abandonment
with his sister-in-law Pearl, a member of his congregation.

The poem suggests mom lived with Basil and Pearl 
until she ran away at age 16.
Basil continued the cycle of abuse against those in his domain.
The depth of creative expression revealed 
in mom’s words is amazing with the witness of her own mother’s pain.
Mom became distrustful of men, having developed a negative schema which impacted her relationships with men thereafter.
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Vade Retro Me, Satana 
~Latin for~
Get off my back, Satan

Generational Transmission

Welcome to my second installment of My Mother’s Story and Mine. The poem, Old Satan He’s My Dad was an expression of my mother’s heartbreak after being devastated by abuse and abandonment.  My grandmother learned to survive, never truly adapting to the trauma. Newspaper articles reveal how she allowed the abuse cycle to resume upon my grandfather’s short-lived return to the family several times before departing forever.  The era in which they lived did not offer the exterior support that our society has come to depend upon.

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