Karla,

I'm not going to play tit for tat with you. Saying either I don't have hair or a heart reflects on you. And unless you live with someone, then you really don't know them. And maybe you shouldn't analyze Dani's psyche. You just don't know what went on. And neither do I. I can just relate to many things Dani said. If you haven't walked in her shoes, saying she should forgive anyone is not your call.

juliajayne -

Calling the relationship brought about through a weekly hair appointment "superficial" proves that you either have a) no hair or b) no heart. Do you know what people talk about at the hair salon? It's all deeply personal. And there was period of a few months when Irene came in daily - quite possibly when Dani wasn't speaking to her, from the timeline I can gather from the article - because her arm was broken and she couldn't wash her hair. If she didn't come in, I called her to make sure she was okay. Are you going to tell me that was made up, too?

And how dare you diagnose someone else's psyche after reading a single essay by her daughter, who openly admits holding a grudge? I think you may have your own mother issues going on here.

From Amazon's review of Dani Shapiro's memoir (condensed for space):

Dani Shapiro was rescued by tragedy. At the age of 23 she is a wreck... She is at an expensive spa in California--at a far remove from the middle-class, orthodox Jewish home in which she was raised--when, one snowy night, her parents' car careens into a highway median. When she returns to New Jersey, to her parents' hospital bedsides, she begins the journey to discover and mine her inner strength. She succeeds, and though the process is as arduous as it is painful, Shapiro finds within herself the power to nurse her mother through nearly 100 broken bones, to survive her father's death, and to reset the course of her life.

After all the abuse here, I don't know if Dani Shapiro reads these comments, but I'd like to thank her for her essay.

I know exactly the feeling of an extra skin or membrane. I know the fear of being the same, too. And I remember both my mother and grandmother trying to prevent me from having children.

My mum is the same, except she is also an alchoholic. This made a significant difference last year, because she fell and hurt herself while drunk last year, and the hospital forced her into a rehab-program. So all the people who have been telling us (three) children we were mean to her suddenly realized there was another side to the picture.

Still she is struggling to keep up appearances. She asked me to go with her to a counseling session, and there, I sat listening as she told a bunch of lies, all blaming my stepfather for her alchoholism and accusing him of several crimes. The nurse lapped it all up. Afterwards, I asked why she lied, and why I had to be there. She said she'd hoped I would call on her. But the last thing I want today is to mother my mother.

Anyway, the whole thing led to a huge admission from her at Christmas: suddenly she said she had hated the whole idea of having children and had felt somehow cheated by fate when I arrived, like her life was stopped. She said she could see I have a different relationship with my kids, and thought it was because I was more mature when I got them. Still, it's too difficult for her to change now. My girls won't see her. And I understand them. I remember the feeling of claws rather than caring hands when she tucked me in at night. And the smells of smoke, drink and too much perfume.

My sister has cut her off completely, which means she will spread all sorts of horrid rumours about my sisters. In a very sweet and worried way. But it's all lies. My brother and I keep a minimum connection, but it's a huge strain on our lives.

Karla,

I'd prefer to hear from someone who knows her well what Irene's real circumstances were vis a vis the car accident. I know from having a personality disordered parent that they tend to make things up to get attention and garner pity. Also bragging about Dani doesn't necessarily mean a whole lot if she is NPD or BPD. These people like adulation in any form and there is a need to make it seem like their family is superior to everyone elses.

Knowing someone for a once a week hair appointment is superficial. That doesn't mean that Irene had no good qualities. But if Dani felt like she had the inability to tolerate her, that's her call. A parent who expects you to meet their emotional needs while not reciprocating in kind is very crazy making. As I mentioned before, it leaves you with the inability to get met or even recognize your own needs.

As for forgiveness, that's not your call. In fact I think acceptance that your parent doesn't really see you for the unique individual that you are (as opposed to an extension of them) is the best anyone can hope for. In my mind, forgiveness is something to be proffered by a higher being than ourselves. And it sounds like Dani has accepted that she didn't have a mother who really saw her for herself.

I knew Irene Shapiro. In fact, I worked at the hair salon she so famously went to. For the three years I managed the place, I saw Irene roughly once a week. And she bragged about "my daughter, the author" almost every time I saw her.

What isn't in this story, or the other stories posted at Dani Shapiro's website, is what Irene went through. Her husband, Dani's father, died in a terrible car accident. Irene was in the car, too, and her injuries kept her in the hospital for over a year. When her husband was buried, she was in a coma. Almost every bone in her body had been broken. Years later, when I knew her, she once confided in me that she still experienced terrible pain from the accident.

I didn't know that Irene had died, and was surprised by the depth of my grief upon learning the news. She was a brave, wise, and warm - yes, warm - woman.

Dani, your mother loved you to the best of her ability. Of course she had her vanities and anxieties, but so does everyone else's mother (and father).

Forgive her.