tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618393660102651883.post3602730549888150094..comments2023-07-13T02:20:08.472-07:00Comments on . . svensto . .: Beth, and forgivenesssvenstohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565466733067255410noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618393660102651883.post-68782741693369108502009-03-25T06:30:00.000-07:002009-03-25T06:30:00.000-07:00I want to add my thanks. Your memories, written do...I want to add my thanks. <BR/><BR/>Your memories, written down like this, explain so much of so many.Ter-o-flahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03857983543296804214noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618393660102651883.post-45200653993891073522009-03-25T06:11:00.000-07:002009-03-25T06:11:00.000-07:00Just wanted to let you know that I love your blog ...Just wanted to let you know that I love your blog and even worry about you when you don't post for several days. Thank you for sharing your personal history with us, both the fond memories and the painful ones.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618393660102651883.post-12971150185361798042009-03-24T13:07:00.000-07:002009-03-24T13:07:00.000-07:00You are right, right, right, Grandma Svensto. The...You are right, right, right, Grandma Svensto. The path to forgiveness and healing is paved with stones of understanding, each one placed by the hands of the injured. It's a lot of work. <BR/><BR/>My mother's mother was horrible to both her daughters. She would berate them for hours on end, sometimes so long that they would fall asleep on their feet. They'd then be beaten back to attention. My mother was sent to an orphanage at age fifteen for getting pregnant, all her possessions and clothes taken away because those were for children and she was not a member of the family anymore, having shamed it. She could wear what the children with no families wore, castoffs. No contact from her parents for two years. <BR/><BR/>My mother's life was littered with failures, largely because her mother had convinced her she'd do nothing but fail. At times she seemed out to get herself, unable to let herself succeed. She was an alcoholic and a serial wife of violent men. But amongst all this wreckage lies the glowing success of her overcoming the abuse done to her in her role as a loving parent. We never doubted her love for us, her belief in our worth as people. <BR/><BR/>Like you were, she learned that her mother had been a less-wanted child. She would often tell me stories of her mother's childhood, and in them her mother was the victim of a Swedish family feud and economic hardship. She tried so hard to understand, and forgive, and in the end she could respect her mother as a survivor and an accomplished woman. She surmised that because her mother had not been loved, she just didn't know how to do it properly. It helped her cope until her mother passed away, when she was shocked to find that she felt only relief. <BR/><BR/>Thank you so much for your stories, your painful memories, your insight. It is a continuing pleasure to get to know you through your writing. <BR/><BR/>Cynthiaweecynhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10796457700146109682noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618393660102651883.post-40256663694440178462009-03-24T09:52:00.000-07:002009-03-24T09:52:00.000-07:00The pain leaks from your pages and touches tears a...The pain leaks from your pages and touches tears at my heart.<BR/><BR/>The loneliness and overwhelming drudgery your mother faced<BR/><BR/>and the innocent baby who bore the consequences of it all.<BR/><BR/>Kat<BR/>Vancouver, WAHaphazardkathttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13111020219050037721noreply@blogger.com