Chapter 15 - Vanessa’s Letters
From incarceration, Vanessa wrote me monthly.
I did not read first six.
Helen stored.
Then curiosity.
First letter full apology.
Second family history.
Third resentment.
Fourth therapy insight.
I read them in order.
She described caring for her own mother at twenty-three.
Her mother had dementia.
Ah.
Important.
Vanessa’s mother, Joan, began early-onset dementia at fifty-eight.
Vanessa became caregiver.
Daniel? Wait Vanessa married into Hayes; her mother separate.
She spent six years managing medication, bills, wandering, accusations.
Joan sometimes insisted Vanessa stole money when she hadn’t.
Sometimes slapped Vanessa.
Vanessa learned:
When older person says no, caregiver may still need to override.
That framework saved Joan at times.
Then Vanessa applied it to me.
Huge insight.
She wrote:
You reminded me of my mother every time you forgot something, and I started reacting to you as if decline was inevitable.
I had not known Joan’s dementia details.
Daniel knew some.
Not enough.
Vanessa:
With my mother, waiting for permission sometimes meant danger. With you, I treated your permission as optional even when you were capable.
There.
Trauma transferred.
Then financial motive, inheritance fears, household stress made control rewarding.
No excuse.
But origin.
I wrote back after ninth letter:
Understanding why you were afraid does not make what you did acceptable.
She replied:
I know.
Good.
Then:
I don’t know whether I can forgive you.
She replied:
You don’t have to.
May you like
Good.
The relationship stayed letters only.
