The death of an estranged parent can conjure complex feelings.
Even if you never planned to reconcile, once your estranged parent dies, the knowledge that there are no more chances can bring up unexpected feelings of sadness and grief.
The relationship is truly over. There is no longer any opportunity for forgiveness and understanding. These feelings may also be mingled with relief, especially if the relationship was abusive.
Yet that parent still lives in your memories, good and bad, a ghost of your past. They may be gone, but the hurt, anger or rejection may resurface, along with memories of happier times, and sadness that these were lost.
If you can’t attend the funeral, it can leave you without a safe, supportive place to reconcile these feelings.
If you can attend, it can feel both healing and alienating, as you are mourning the death of your relationship with that parent, as well as the death of your parent.
I know this because my own father, from whom I was estranged for most of my adult life, died on 25 July 2022.
Our estrangement began from the moment of my birth. Although my sister and I grew up under the same roof, each was claimed by a warring parent. My father claimed my sister Juliana when she was born, and 14 months later, when I was born, my mother claimed me.
And although Juliana and I sat in a twin pusher, played together and were often dressed alike when we were young, our opposing allegiances meant we were trained to not trust each other.
The situation was normal, even if I wasn’t, as soon after a birth I developed a swelling in my right leg, later diagnosed as Milroy’s Disease, a rare form of congenital lymphoedema.
“Just tell them you were born that way,” my mother said, when people stared and whispered.
Growing up with Milroy’s disease is the B story in the book. Initially, I wasn’t going to include it. I’d spent my life hiding my “big leg”, as my mother called it. I wasn’t going to write about it.
But my editor, Brooklyn-based Australian author and developmental editor Virginia Lloyd, insisted it was a key part of the larger story. (More about this in a new post coming soon).
When my parent’s tumultuous marriage ended after 20 years, I went with Mum and my sister stayed in the family home with Dad. Six months later, my mother discovered a love letter from my father to her wealthy widowed sister.
Hurt and betrayed, my mother cut off all contact with the rest of the family. From then on it was The Monster and the Gigolo versus The Ma and the Kid, as she dubbed us all.
I didn’t see my sister for 20 years, and my cousins for 40 years. And although I tried to reconcile with my father four times – once every decade – he eventually wrote and ended our relationship in 2013.
According to Dr Kylie Allbias, a social worker and academic at the University of Newcastle, and author of Family Estrangement, A Matter of Perspective (Routledge, 2016), one-in-25 Australians will be estranged from family at any one time.
This is an eight per cent jump since the previous research in 2003, when a survey of 1215 Australians by Relationships Australia revealed that 17 per cent of respondents were estranged from at least one family member, most likely a sibling.
“Estrangement is often fuelled by conflicting perceptions of betrayal, family roles, secrets and abuse…” Dr Allbias said in a 2017 SBS interview.
Yet little is written about it. Shame and stigma prevent many estranged families from revealing or discussing the situation.
I was a journalist for 33 years, yet I’ve only written twice, very briefly, about this issue from a personal perspective.
Instead, on Father’s Day, I remained silent when friends gushed about their fathers. I remained silent, too, when friends talked about shopping, going to movies or celebrating birthdays with their sisters. Despite my initial reunion with my sister after 20 years, our relationship remained cordial but not close, marred by our divided loyalties.
The book that changed everything
In lockdown, I sat down to finally write the story I’d been meaning to write all my life – about the dreadful betrayal of my mother.
But after I submitted my first attempts, my editor, Virginia suggested another angle.
“I think this is about the sisters,” she said.
“No,” I insisted.
It wasn’t about my sister. I couldn’t even tell my sister I was writing this book. She wouldn’t understand. After all, she was Dad’s ally.
But in writing it, I discovered Virginia was right. The story wasn’t about my mother or my father – or the family war. It was about the sisters who were lost in the battle.
The book, when I finally completed it, brought Juliana and me together in a way our parents had never intended, nor could have imagined.
If my father had died two years earlier, she would have been handling his funeral alone. I would not have been invited.
I wouldn’t have felt comfortable attending anyway, other than from curiosity about what other people might have said about him. I would, however, have fulfilled my mother’s wish, which was to “dance on his grave”
Instead, as I listened to the eulogies from other family members, I wept for my father and for all the things I never knew about him, including that one of his favourite songs was Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darling – a favourite of mine.
You don’t need a kindle or an e-reader. CLEAVED is a PDF document that can be downloaded directly to your computer. $1 from every download will be donated to the leading international organisation for lymphatic research, the USA-based Lymphatic Education and Research Network, to fund its campaign to find a cure for lymphatic disease.
Here’s what others have said about Cleaved:
“…a brave and candid memoir written with journalistic rigour and journalistic compassion…an extraordinary story, vividly told…”
– Angela Savage, author Mother of Pearl, (Text Publishing, 2019)
https://angelasavage.wordpress.com/
“…The compassion of a fine writer with the ability to break destructive patterns and seek the truth…a candid and compelling read, laced with humour.”
– Hazel Edwards.
Hazel Edwards is best known for her children’s book There’s a Hippopotamus on Our Roof Eating Cake, reprinted annually since its publication in 1980. Hazel has published than 220 books for adults and children, fiction and non-fiction, on a diverse range of topics, including her own memoir about her literary life, Not Just a Piece of Cake – Being and Author (Brolga Publishing. Also available on AUDIBLE, Kobe, Booktopia, Scribd and Google Play)
https://hazeledwards.com/book/not-just-a-piece-of-cake-being-an-author/
Want to read more about my story? Contact me at jane.cafarella@gmail.com
Share your story.
Are you estranged from your father? How are you feeling this Father’s Day? Leave a comment. I would love to hear from you.