I found out that my father had died by listening to Mom’s side of a phone call. It took a while for me to figure out that she was talking to my brother, and then even longer to figure out that he was telling her my father had died. I had to wait until the call was over to get the details – that my father had been in and out of nursing homes and hospitals for the past three years (which we sort of knew, from clues but not from direct information), that he didn’t have dementia (which is what Mom had assumed), and that there was drama around when and where the funeral would take place.
I wrote to four people after I found out – two good friends, my therapist, and my rabbi. And my rabbi rushed out of a committee meeting (reluctantly?) to call me and see what I might need from him. He already knew the backstory, about the sexual abuse and the estrangement (I hadn’t seen my father in 23 years), and he said something that really stuck with me. He said that the commandment to Honor your father and mother is often misinterpreted. The word in Hebrew is Kaved, which actually means weight or weigh, not respect or honor. It means that you should weigh the role of your parents in your life when you decide what you owe them in return; you are not required to blindly honor or respect a parent simply because they are your parent, but because they acted as a parent should and raised you with love and respect and guided and protected you. The commandment to Honor your father and mother is not meant to be a get out of jail free card for any parent who abuses or neglects their children.
I am not orthodox, like my brother and his family, and I don’t believe that my rabbi is the final word on what I can and can’t do as a Jewish woman, but it helped to have validation and support, both from a person I trust and from the tradition of my ancestors.
I made sure to tell my rabbi not to put out an announcement that my father had died or to add my father’s name to the list for the Mourner’s Kaddish at our synagogue at Friday night services. I didn’t want to receive messages from people who care about me but don’t know my situation, telling me that they are sorry for my loss and may my father’s memory be a blessing. It isn’t a blessing. He wasn’t a blessing in my life.
Jewish funerals are required to take place as soon as possible after the death, but I did not go (though Mom watched it on Zoom to support my brother and his children). And I didn’t go to sit Shiva at my brother’s house, though Mom went to visit and to offer support, avoiding discussions about what did and did not happen in the past.
I stayed home and sought comfort from my friends and my dogs and my therapist, but I was jealous of my brother’s ability to mourn our father, and all of the Jewish rituals that would support him through that process. I found myself feeling jealous of anyone who could find comfort in hearing their lost loved one’s name read out each week before the Mourner’s Kaddish, or who found comfort in saying the Mourner’s Kaddish and praising God in the memory of their lost loved one. I’m jealous of people for whom the traditional rituals work – like giving nostalgic eulogies and having friends and family over to reminisce and tell stories and share food for a week. Those mourning rituals are so beautiful and powerful, but only when thinking about the lost loved one is a comfort.
My situation doesn’t fit into the traditional framework. My father sexually abused me, and others. He was a pedophile and a narcissist and a manipulator, and he denied what he’d done and denied the significance of the things he couldn’t dispute having done, and never made any attempt to make amends. If anything, he continued to try to convince important people in my life that I was lying and he was a victim. The fact is, I still live in a world that doesn’t want to reckon with the reality that abuse and neglect are everywhere, and that they destroy lives every day.
This was brought home to me, vividly, that night, when, after writing my emails and texts and making my phone calls, I tried to distract myself with an episode of New Amsterdam on NBC. It’s a hospital show with an idealistic bent, often too simplistic, but still hopeful about making the world a better place. It’s not my favorite show, but I watch it regularly and often find it comforting and/or interesting. But for whatever reason, that night, out of nowhere, the writers chose to go down a rabbit hole about Recovered Memories.
Recovered Memories is a somewhat generic term that people often use to describe traumatic memories that have been forgotten at some point and then remembered later. A lot of how you define the term Recovered Memories depends on what your intentions are: if you want to debunk the idea that it’s even possible for memories to return after a period of forgetting, you will probably define Recovered Memories as wholly forgotten and then remembered only with the help of a therapist or a drug; if you believe that trauma can cause memories to fragment or be blocked for some period of time, you’ll probably define Recovered Memories more generally, as partial forgetting and partial remembering over time, often triggered by events in the present that remind you of the past trauma (like your own child reaching the age you were at when you were abused).
On this episode of New Amsterdam, the writers decided to take the loveable psychiatrist on the show, who is more often than not empathetic and kind, and have him testify in court that all Recovered Memories, of any kind, are unreliable. They even had him quote a study about The Shopping Mall Experiment, where the researchers said they were able to “implant” memories in susceptible adults of having been lost in a mall in childhood. The study has been debunked for any number of reasons, but the biggest reason is that traumatic memory and “normal” memory are not the same, and while being lost in a mall might be scary, it would not qualify as a traumatic memory unless something traumatic happened while you were lost.
But still, I wanted to believe that the writers on the show were going to handle the issue sensitively, and in the next scene they gave me hope when the psychiatrist’s female colleague confronted him with her own recovered memory (though not of abuse), and with the terrible impact his testimony would have on millions of women and children who had been abused and tried to testify to that in court. But then the psychiatrist doubled down on his belief that not only Recovered Memories, but ALL memories, are unreliable. He went on to specifically attack the legitimacy of his female colleague’s memories, by researching the probable season and location where the memory would have taken place, disputing her memories of the weather on that day in order to prove to her that it could not have happened the way she remembered it. He was relentless and wildly inappropriate, and the writers gave no explanation for why he would feel so strongly about this particular issue or why he would be willing to be so cruel to his friend.
By the end of the episode it seemed to me that the writers’ intention was to use this whole storyline as a way to question the female colleague’s memories of how her father had left her when she was little, so she could reassess her feelings towards her still living mother and therefore change her plans to move to London, which threatened the status quo at the hospital; but they could have found hundreds of other ways to change her mind without invalidating millions of people.
I was in shock. The violence of the psychiatrist’s attack on his friend seemed to come out of nowhere, and the female colleague’s willingness to forgive him right away was out of character and bizarre. But more than that, the way the writers were misrepresenting the research was horrifying, especially because it is well known in the field that traumatic memories often have missing or distorted nonessential details, like the time of day, or the weather, or the clothes you were wearing, and those mistaken details have no bearing on whether or not the crux of the memory is true.
The emotions I couldn’t produce in response to the news of my father’s death came roaring up as I watched this show and felt invalidated and manipulated all over again. You can’t prove it and therefore it didn’t happen. You have no pictures and I don’t want to believe you and therefore it didn’t happen. Your memories, your symptoms, your feelings, are nothing in the face of what I want to believe.
But I’ve done the reading that the writers on New Amsterdam clearly did not bother to do, and I’ve done the listening, to many people who have been abused, and I know that the brain often tries to protect us from knowing things we are not ready to deal with. I just felt so let down that a show that had seemed thoughtful and kind was no longer trustworthy.
I am still processing my father’s death, and trying to figure out how it changes things, if it changes things. I am safer now than I was as a child. I am loved and supported and listened to and believed; and I cherish the people who have brought me comfort and made my world a better place. But the mourning process is still ongoing, for the loss of the childhood and the father I could have had, and for the years spent trying to recover, and I wish there could be established rituals to help me through this kind of mourning. There are so many of us in similar situations, trying to cobble together the support we need to move forward. I can’t be the only one who struggles to create those rituals on my own, and I can’t be the only one who feels let down by a world that refuses to acknowledge the pervasiveness and validity of the need for those rituals.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
You cannot deny your own truth because the world wants some established ritual. And you cannot mourn one who abused you, but “But the mourning process is still ongoing, for the loss of the childhood and the father I could have had, and for the years spent trying to recover, and I wish there could be established rituals to help me through this kind of mourning.” is the real truth of your situation.
Thank you for the validation!
That’s what I was thinking also. Thank you for saying it so well.
And thanks to you, Candy
Yes…
Yes. Exactly what derrickjknight said. You cannot deny your own truths.
Thank you copd
God be with you. Recovered memories are real, which I’ve experienced along with many others. You need to mourn the loss of your childhood and I’m sorry there isn’t a protocol for that. The hugging a puppy offer looked pretty good. God bless you and may you find peace in your own mourning.
Thank you!!!
i stand with you on this-
Thank you!
Sending love and comfort your way!
Thank you!
Make your own mourning, burn something that reminds you of him and as the flames die let his memory be extinguished for you for ever.
I’ll think about it! Thank you!
I also stand with you on this.
Thank you!
I understand your turmoil Rachel. My wife’s family has a similar background and when I see my wife’s elderly, palliative father, it is all I can do to stop from shaking him silly. He is still playing his narcissistic , sociopath games. I have no suggestions for healing, but my thoughts and prayers are with you. Allan
Thank you so much!
What a difficult time for you. Thank you for being so brave and sharing. I know others will get comfort to know that they are not alone in going through the death of a parent who abused them. What a shame that when you sought the comfort of some ‘mindless’ television (I have done the same myself) it let you down. As many of the other comments say, I am sending you hugs and my thoughts. Love Mx
Thank you so much!
I have close friends go through similar experiences. I am pleased you have your mother, therapist and rabbi to talk to. Love Mx
My deepest sympathies for your STRUGGLE, not for the death. It sounds rather like it was a blessing FOR YOU to have someone that painful removed. You were chastising yourself a bit for not being able to mourn your lost loved one. Well you said it yourself, right there (IMO), LOVED one. He wasn’t someone you loved. So mourn him (if that’s what you choose to do) in the way that brings YOU the most comfort. I’ve heard it said that all the hoopla around death is for the people left behind and I believe that. The dead one is dead, and therefore has bigger things to deal with (especially those like your father, again in my opinion) than caring whether or not we ‘honor’ them after they’ve gone. Take comfort in the knowledge that God is now judging your father, and in His eyes we cannot lie. He knows the truth. In my opinion, again. Take care of yourself and your mother at this difficult time, and yeah. Get LOTS of puppy hugs.
Thank you!
Sending you strength and love.
Thank you!
I’m so sorry that this happened to you and that now you’re under such stress. Honor your feelings and whatever your healing requires. Complicated relationships are… complicated and so is mourning them. There’s no right or wrong way, so be sure to trust your instincts on this and take good care of yourself. Hugs.
Thank you!
So difficult for you, and upsetting about the TV representation. You are loved and supported, that is what matters. I am sorry for your loss, not of an abusive father, but the father he could and should, have been.
Thank you!
❤
Gosh, I don’t know what to say. other than as someone else remarked, it is brave to tell us this and I hope you work through it with the love and support of friends, your rabbi, mom, and your therapist. I also want to know how you ultimately end up dealing with your father’s death. Frankly, as selfish as this is, I need to know for myself when the time comes when my father passes. (I have no contact with my 90 y/o father.)
I’ve never watched New Amsterdam, but I believe in Recovered Memories because I had one myself .
Thank you for the validation!
Thank you for sharing. Life is complicated. You are brave.
Thank you!
As Pretty often reminds me, life is messy.
Each of us deals with the messiness in her own way.
There is no right way to clean it up.
I’m pulling for you, Rachel.
Thank you!
You are definitely not alone. It is hard to imagine the wreckage this personality type leaves in their wake if you yourself don’t have one in your life. The lies, the drama, the blame, the fallout, and the hurt inflicted on those around them, while they emerge from their manipulations seemingly unscathed. Again, you’re not alone. There are so many damaged people out there. My heart goes out to you. Do what makes you feel good and comforts you. The rest be damned. Surround yourself with those who care about you and soothe you. Tune out every ugly, hurtful thought or feeling. Just say, I’ve met my quota. Goodbye.
Fill your life now with kindness wherever you find it. God Bless and stay strong. You have many people you’ve never met who care about you and are cheering you forward.
Don’t give in to sadness.
I wish I could take you to a beautiful cafe for coffee, pastry, laughter, and companionship.
Hang in there.
I love that “I’ve met my quota” line! Thank you!!!
I don’t know which words to use. It must have been tough both in the past and the present, but as your Rabbi mentioned, it’s important to look at what you achieved from all of this. You seem to be a very nice person. As you said, it’s very important for you to stay with your loved ones, and it seems that they are quite a few, including your beautiful dogs 🙂
Keep strong and safe :-*
Thank you!!!
Wow, not sure what to say to you.
Blessings to you, your family and dogs.
Be safe ad strong my friend
Thank you!
You’re Welcome
So sorry to hear this news. It’s difficult to process the death of an estranged family member. It can take a while and you can probably expect some dreams about the person to start happening. Take good care.
Thank you!
Thinking about you during this difficult time. I hope you find the peace you deserve, my friend.
Thank you!
Sending lots of good thoughts your way.
Thank you!
You know the truth. Never waver in your belief. I’ve been there myself. The day I learned my niece was going to stay over at my parents, was the day I opened up and let loose all the memories I’d buried inside me.
Hugs
You are special. You are loved. You are a wonderful person.
Hugs.
Thank you so much!
Yes, hugging a puppy always helps, and I’m glad you have Ellie, Cricket, your mom, friends, Rabbi, and therapist there by your side as you walk through this. Adi sends some hugs and labby licks your way.
Thank you!!!!
It’s never easy to lose a parent even when the relationship wasn’t what it should have been. I hope there is peace in your heart as you process his death.
Thank you!
My thoughts are with you Rachel. ❤
Thank you!
Bless your heart. I can’t imagine the pain and challenges that you’ve suffered. My thoughts are with you.
Thank God for puppy dogs to comfort us and show their love with their innocent trusting heart. Hugs, yes many blessed hugs.
Puppies are awesome!!!
Hugging a puppy ALWAYS helps !
Yes!!!
Your own thoughts, Rachel, and the other commenters, are stronger than anything I may say in such a complex and layered moment. I will add, too, that religious rituals, especially of transition, rarely provide anything meaningful to me, even as someone who has led those rituals regularly. I do cry at weddings though!
Thank you!!!
I stand with you on this, Rachel.
Thank you!
Rachel, you’re a good person who has gone through a lot. My thoughts are with you.
Thank you!
Hugging a puppy or either of your cute pups is excellent therapy! I am sorry for your experience but proud of you for forging the life you have with your mom and your place in the world. I wish you peace.
Thank you so much!
I think its true that now he is gone, you are left to mourn what could and should have been; the life and childhood you should have had. Is there some comfort knowing he is gone? I suppose that, as you hadn’t seen him in 23 years or more, he has been gone a long time already so in a sense nothing has changed at all.
Some people are good. Some people are bad. I think you are amongst the former (and I like to think I am too but that’s perhaps for others to say). I will say this: I often think about something the author Philip K Dick wrote, when he regarded some people as being ‘defective humans’. Like a faulty kettle or a car or anything, really, although clearly humans are not so easily fixed, if ever. What Philip was writing about was when he read the diary of a German solder during WWII in a concentration camp, complaining about the crying of starving children keeping him awake at night. Philip was haunted by that diary entry. He could not understand how a human being could think and write that, so reasoned there was something ‘wrong’ or defective about that person; the wiring in his mind, soul, something was wired all wrong.
Whenever I see on the news about some horror committed by a killer, thief, abuser, I always think back to Philips writing about that Nazi guard. Its not excusing the behaviour, but rather trying to understand it as the action of someone not human, not one of us. The alternative of course is to accept that its perfectly human to be a monster without empathy and that they are no different to us, and that’s too scary/frightening to really contemplate. Instead I often turn to my wife and say “that guy was defective, he wasn’t human” if only to try to reason it out, that such monsters exist. That way I sleep easier at night.
We all have to find our own way.
Wow. Thank you. Thank you for talking about such painful and difficult things, because you have helped me to feel understood, as a sharer of similar experiences. You are brave, and thoughtful, and kind. Here is a big, warm hug and a cuppa. My Kleo sends her love too.🐶
Thank you so much!
Sorry for your loss.
You are not alone. I can tell from your post and the many well wishes here. You have every right to mourn your childhood and move on in the best way you know how. Hugs and prayers.
Thank you!
Thank you for bravely writing this post. Although it’s not a comfort to you at the moment, maybe you can keep in the back of your mind that someone, or maybe more than one person, will read this, and realize they are not alone, and/or perhaps take action to get the help they need, or to tell their story…and that you have done an important job.
Peace,
Julie
Thank you so much! That is always my hope!
Standing with you – Stay strong!
Thank you!
Reality often lingers within our memories, only to be recovered years, decades later. Those memories are real.
Light, hugs, concern, and love, to you.
Thank you so much!!!
Sometimes, society and rituals don’t provide the answers–they might even raise more questions. Hope you are able to sort out these thoughts and feelings in time.
Thank you!
Wow!…..You show a lot of strength with such writing…….Stay strong..
Thank you!
Follow your heart Rachel! You are a brave woman. Take good care of yourself. You deserive it. Hugs and courage!
Thank you!
A captivating read, Rachel. Take care.
Thank you!
Prayers for you, Rachel. May healing come in time (Isaiah 53.5).
On the commandment to honour one’s father and mother, a Messianic Rabbi (he’s a Jew) told me that what it means is something like to “learn from [the mistakes of] the generations before you”–I hope I remembered it right.
Hugs to you. x
Thank you!
Rachel, Wishing you peace and happiness!
Thank you!
I hope you can find closure and healing now. I need to read your book to get the whole picture, but maybe you can establish a ritual of your own with your mother and friends who understand? What do people do for kaddish who don’t have children, siblings and spouses? I’m always amazed and delighted by the insights you provide into scripture, and the way it can be read (and I’m agnostic). Your rabbi sounds like the kind of spiritual leader everyone should have. (Going back to lurking now. 🙂 )
Thank you for your insight!
I’m so glad you pointed out how the writers were misrepresenting the research. Media literacy is a skillset young people need these days, because information is so easy to spread, and just as easily unreliable / fabricated / distorted. I agree with others about wishing you the strength to find closure and making the most of time with loved ones..
Thank you!
Sending good thoughts 💗
Thank you!
I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, and that we live in a world that makes it as difficult as possible to heal.
Thank you!
Sending you strength and love ❤
Thank you!
Sending love and light for your continued healing. I believe you. You are a powerful being of 🕯️ light.
Thank you so much!