I can relate to Saoirse Ronan (And I felt so angry)

I just returned to our home SyVilla after a workshop tour in Copenhagen & Amsterdam!
Pete and I had time to see friends, go to movies, visit two photo exhibitions and cycle in the city (Amsterdam) and walk plenty (Copenhagen).

Last Thursday we went to see the movie The Outrun mostly shot on Orkney island in a lovely movie theater called Rialto in Amsterdam. 
(actress Saoirse Ronan is a big favorite of Pete’s and I also like her acting a lot)

I liked the movie.
I first wrote “I enjoyed the movie” and realized it is not that I really enjoyed all parts of it.
And I think it was good.
Well made.
Meaningful.

I felt empathy towards the main character Rona played by Saoirse Ronan and at times also disgust about her self-destructive behaviour and addiction.
(I will not reveal too much in case you go to see it yourself!)

Afterwards Pete and I sat in the cinema cafe on the second floor looking into Sarphati Park and sharing a caramel cake – that was the only snack they had left.
I of course had a coffee, Pete had ginger tea. ☕

We talked about the movie as we tend to do (and after we – especially Pete – like also learning more about movies we like online such as information on the actors and directors, the shooting locations, quicky details and the novels movie is based on).

During the talk all of a sudden I felt teary.
And angry.
Really pissed off.

What upset me was the comment of the protagonist’s mother.

It was something like
“You need to let go. Take distance, that’s what I had to do. Live your own life”.

That was a comment about the main character taking care of her father who has bipolar disorder.
He had a depressive phase.
She was trying to help, felt responsible and almost desperate.
Her parents had divorced earlier and the father was living alone.
She was an only child.

I could relate even though the situation which triggered me was a bit different.

I felt I was left alone with my brother to take care of my father (he was also living alone without a partner).

My mother could divorce him and I could not divorce my dad.
Want it or not, I felt responsible.
And alone.
I did not ask to be born to these parents!

And I definitely did not ask to receive advice from my mother while she had nothing to do with my father any more nor had seen him for years.

I did not ask to make decisions for my dad for a care home when he did not manage well at home any more.
I did not choose to worry about my dad when he was still living at home alone.
Worrying if he took his meds, if he ate, if he felt lonely, if he had started to wander around outside and get lost again or hurt himself.

The little angry person inside me was soooo pissed off!
Unfair.

So unfair!!
I did not ask this.
I did not order it.
I did not ask for it.

And I saw no other option than to be there.
Ultimately I did not want to choose another option.
I loved my dad.
(still do)

I know other people were far more involved with their parents’ care and used a lot more time to take care of them.
I know I had a choice.
And the choice did not always seem that real at the time.

And somehow I enjoyed giving space for that little Tuulia who felt that she felt alone to deal with and worry about her father after the divorce.
I felt surprised by the intensity of the anger.

I also felt a bit embarrassed to be teary and triggered in a cafe.
I did not worry about Pete’s reaction though.
And I realized I might not have really shared with Pete about my big anger towards mom since my father got sick, even though when they divorced over 25 years ago he was not sick.

My father had Alzheimer‘s for several years before he died.
I had a good connection with him for the past ten years or so before his death.
I had told him the key things I wanted to clear with him and were able to let go of my anger and sadness.

He was not a perfect father and he truly loved me and my son.
I see it and feel it.
And heard it too.
Not as “I love you” but “Great to see you. Thank you for coming / calling etc”

He was also able to take things lightly at times, loved good food, sauna and being in nature. 

There is a lot I could write about him.
Mainly sweet memories which pop up when I am on a ferry, eating nice, in a forest, in Tallinn or in a sauna.
Or when I see nice traditional style paintings, especially landscapes.
And when I hear classical music or dixieland.

I could also write more about my anger towards my mother for her reaction when I called to tell that my father had died.
And how she behaved after the funeral.
Some I have been able to let go and some still bring up little pain.

What I want to say with all this is: embrace your emotions and sensations.
They tell you what is important.
They show you that you are alive and care.

Let me ask you:
When did you last feel surprisingly moved?
How do you feel about your parents aging or maybe already dead?
Have you or do you plan to take care of your parents when they are old?

And
Who will be there for you when you are old?

Love,
Tuulia (& Pete) ❤️