Everything is not okay, but that’s okay.

Kady Brown
Aug 28, 2017 · 4 min read

When I was a child, I knew that I didn’t have the picture perfect family that was depicted in movies and television. Far from it. But because of that, I also knew that I wanted something different for myself and my future family. Three weeks ago, I married the love of my life. Planning our wedding was a demanding exercise in emotional strength that led me to face unexpected challenges that were rooted in the complicated history with my father.

When I was a child, my father drank heavily and was physically abusive towards me and my mother. My mother, of course, suffered the brunt of his aggression and we lived this way until my mother had the courage to separate from my father when I reached age 13. A chasm developed between me and father’s family that still exists to this day. It was unintentional on my part, yet inevitable given the fact that both sides of my family purposely kept their distance from each other after the divorce. We weren’t the type of family that talked about problems openly. We dealt with things in our own way without being too emotional. I grew up observing my mother single-handedly taking care of our family. She never remarried and made her career the second most important thing in her life after her children.

During the early part of my adult life, I had limited interaction with my father. He was still drinking and his alcoholism made it difficult to have a relationship with him. One day, he got very sick and his doctors warned him that if he continued to drink, it would soon lead to his death. This was a turning point in my father’s life. He became sober and it helped tremendously to improve our relationship as father and daughter. It was also during this time that I sought therapy and began to understand alcoholism. I learned how it affects a person and how it affects a family. Slowly, I began to come to terms with the events of my childhood. My father eventually developed pancreatic cancer as a result of the damage from his alcohol abuse. Before he passed away, I forgave him for the things he had done. Forgiving him was emotionally liberating. Gone was the hurt. I could move on now. I’d conquered a gigantic hurdle in my life and I thought I had it all together.

Hold your horses, Kady.

Not everyone had moved on the same way I did. As my husband and I planned our wedding, it was clear that my mother hadn’t. I felt the need to honor my father’s memory at the wedding, but the idea drove a wedge between me and my mother. It led to hurtful and strained communication between us. She questioned my loyalty to her and disapproved of my actions. The wedding brought to the surface feelings and issues that I thought I had overcome, but was once again having to face. My first instinct when I saw my mother’s unhappiness was to fix it. She had suffered enough. What could I do to help her overcome her hurt and fear? The reality is that I couldn’t. There are a lot of things that you can do for the people you love. You can enable them to overcome their personal challenges, but you cannot do it for them.

I wish I could say that my mother and I found common ground and that we’ve both moved on unaffected. While that is mostly true, I recognize that there is still work to be done both on my part and my mother’s part to mend completely from the experience with my father and his abuse. Opening up conversations about it is one of the first steps towards healing and, as difficult as those conversations can sometimes be, they are necessary.

There’s a saying that God won’t give you more than you can handle, so God must think that I can handle quite a bit. Last week, my father’s mother passed away from brain cancer. I never really knew her. My relationship with my grandmother was virtually non-existent after my parents separated. Despite that distance between us, I still feel a strong sense of respect and obligation to her as my grandmother. I also feel a certain amount of guilt for not having reached out to her prior to her passing. Regardless of the state of our relationship or what her feelings were towards me, I could have been a better person and at least attempted to connect with her. My hope is that wherever she’s watching from, she can see that I feel genuine grief.

Right now, I don’t have it all together.

All this exposure to old memories of my dad and my dad’s family has brought about a set of complex feelings that I am trying my best to process. I’m not perfect and one of the most difficult things for me to admit at the moment is that I don’t have it all under control. I’m emotional and sometimes irrational. I feel sadness and sometimes fear. I don’t have the answers to everything right now, but if there is one thing I know of that can overcome just about any negativity, it’s gratitude. I’m grateful that when I opened up to my friend this morning, she blessed me with her support and understanding; I’m grateful for my patient and loving husband; I’m grateful for the wisdom of my elders.

“Face your feelings and fears with love, understanding and gratitude.”

— Kady’s Aunt

Writing has always been a cathartic experience for me. Throughout my life, I’ve kept a journal, but the words written in it have been mainly for my eyes only. For anyone who may stumble upon my writing, I hope that it touches you and helps to ease your mind to know that there is someone out there just as vulnerable as you are.

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Kady Brown

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Wife | Marketer | Storyteller | Health & Fitness Devotee

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