Hollandaise and Mimosas
My mind has been swimming with so many thoughts, and so much inspiration since I returned from Boston. I can’t honestly say I have really returned. I wish I had time to stop and watch all the recordings of the many invaluable presentations. Or even time to think about them. I guess this is all to say, I am sorry to be late with the blog! I have prided myself in never missing a week, and I don’t want to fall down on my commitment! I certainly want to be true to my word.
Sunday was Mother’s Day in the U.S., and neither my husband nor I have living mothers, although both of us have plenty of living memory of our mothers that made us feel gratefully off the hook on this day. Other than sticker shock at the jacked-up prices of the week’s flowers; and sticky memories of Mother’s Day brunches from my waitressing days, getting dipped in Hollandaise and splashed with Mimosas while tending to dutiful families. Oy vey, happily, for us it was simply another Sunday. Yet in the world of attachment, the mother is so profoundly important, that not addressing her/them. at least in my blog would seem a glaring oversight.
It has also been on my mind that it will soon be the fourth anniversary of the unforgettable murder of George Floyd on May 25, 2020. It is hard to believe that four years have passed already. Although Floyd’s death is not particularly unique in the history of this country, there is something iconic about it, and about him, at least for me. And most especially his haunting cry as he struggled for his dying breath of “Mama”, it occurred to me that perhaps a way to acknowledge both of these dates, would be to see what I could learn about this mythical Mama.
Why Intergenerational Transmission Matters
Larcenia Floyd, George’s mother was already two years deceased by the time of George’s death. Like many a martyr, she is somewhat “beatified” in the literature that I could find, and portrayed in an idealized way. But she was also the quintessential, overly burdened single mother with the additional weighty burdens of poverty, racism, and the profound social injustice endemic to the American South. She was not unique but also remarkable in raising five children alone, working at a burger stand. Active in her community, she also did what she could to help her neighbors’ kids. She supported George in his superior athletic achievement and got him to college. According to autopsy reports, Floyd had his mother’s name tattooed on his stomach.
George Floyd’s attachment story from what I can piece together, or at least hypothesize, was that he was the victim of a “neglect,” that was a function of his, his mother’s, and his family’s circumstances. It was precisely because of her superhuman effort, to be everywhere and cover everything, that her children could not have possibly gotten enough of what infants and children need. I am guessing that her self-reliance was of necessity and probably lifesaving for herself and her family, well until it wasn’t. It is no wonder that so many people come to me after learning about my work, and what sticks with them so pronouncedly is the violence of what I call the “Bermuda Triangle;” the shipwreck of crashing emotions toward the parent/s who did not or could not provide enough: grief, rage and guilt. Devoted to his mother I can imagine that somewhere inside, perhaps beneath the disguise or comfort of drugs, George Floyd must have wrestled with all three.
How much attachment trauma, how much neglect, how much “nothing”, and how much trauma of all the iterations is the product of social, political, and economic forces? How can we possibly imagine healing trauma one survivor at a time, without at least attempting to look and work upstream? How can we hope to really proliferate healing, when the world continues to be so cruel and unjust, victimizing and abandoning, even brutally murdering young and old? My entire life has been plagued by these questions; how to find balance, realistic ways to focus my energy, humility, time… It is an endless puzzle.
My mother was a “poor little rich girl,” before her family lost everything in the war. Her upper-middle-class intellectual Northern German mother was cold, distant, and anything but affectionate. I am guessing she was raised by nannies in those early years, although she did not talk about much. But she was certainly cold and distant, critical and unaffectionate, at least that is my recollection. It was that extreme of loneliness that informed my decision before I was five, “I will never be a mother.” I did not want to make anyone feel like that. And I did not think I could do better.
Our mom loved Mother’s Day. She loved breakfast in bed and began describing her hopes and wishes for gifts and for the day, well in advance. This year, my husband and I have a lovely and gentle Sunday.
Prairie Voles
Prairie voles are adorable little rodents that look like guinea pigs or hamsters. I have never known much about them, except that they are monogamous and mate for life, which is highly unique among mammals and certainly many of us! At the Boston Conference, I had the pleasure of spending a bit of time talking to someone whom I have followed and admired for years, but never gotten this close to: biologist Sue Carter, also affectionately referred to as the “Oxytocin Queen!” is also a high compliment, certainly in my world. Oxytocin is the bonding chemical, secreted in moments and interactions of attachment and connection. I have plans to have some in-depth conversations with her as her biological research sounds like precisely the evidence basis I hope to be able to put underneath my largely anecdotal work about attachment trauma and neglect. I know there is much more out there that I have yet to read and understand, but what she seems to be uncovering is fresh and striking.
Sue is a long-time student of the prairie vole, and in her most recent work, she made a powerfully interesting and important discovery: one incident or event of neglect, attachment shock, be it withdrawal, abandonment, loss, or absence of the beloved other, leaves a profound, enduring, even lifelong impact on the behavior and physiology of our furry little cousins. Said Sue, “We discovered years ago that disrupting prairie vole families by simply picking the family or offspring up one time for a few minutes on the first 1-2 days of life was followed by periods of intense care and lifelong changes in social behavior… I look forward to continued conversation with Sue, and to reading her important research as well as that of her collaborator Jessica Connelly.
Meanwhile, I look at the upcoming anniversary of George Floyd’s murder with the entire Bermuda Triangle of stormy emotions. Intense, grief and rage, and a measure of guilt and shame that my country is still capable of committing such atrocity. Rest well George and Larcenia too. You are not forgotten.
This week’s song:
