The Charm bracelet
The Charm Bracelet
By Sheri McGregor, M.A.
Like charms on a bracelet, familiar thoughts line up and loop. Memories turn and twist. Even when purposely dropped, they jangle and clank. Always present.
At first, I startled awake nightly. Moments from my son’s childhood cut into me like charms on a bracelet worn to bed. In the darkness, I would turn the memories like charms, the satiny silver reminding me of my once sweet young son’s downy hair. One memory slid into the next. I wept over hope and pain and sadness.
A flag charm for a moment of parental pride. (There were so many!) A book charm to represent him learning to read. A wedding cake to memorialize his exit.
On this sorry bracelet, worry beads fill the space. What-ifs, wishes, and wistful if-only thoughts. Beads worn smooth from the turning.
There’s a puffy heart charm, too. A mother’s love. So full.
Over time, shiny silver charms tarnish. The flag grows dull. The book’s pages yellow to a bronze. The wedding cake darkens, barely discernible. The puffy heart is black and blue.
Years pass.
As perspective changes, and the story of estrangement unfolds, more charms get added. A pair of precision glasses to replace a rose-colored pair. A calendar shows the passage of time. Exclamation points mark new lows in sporadic contact that can only be meant to abuse. The bracelet grows heavy. The worries crowd in. What if he’s hurting and all alone? I wish he would get the help he needs. If only there was something I could do.
Eventually, the bracelet is mostly ignored. I could shine up the book, the flag, and the puffy heart, but the memories no longer connect. I have a new thought bracelet, adorned with charms from my post-estrangement life. Places I’ve traveled. Accomplishments I’ve realized. People who have died still loving me. And new people. Babies, neighbors, clients, and friends. A host of lovely souls who know me now. Pets who have come… and gone. Memories to savor. Hopes for tomorrows that are full and free.
The old bracelet dangles. Deadish weight. Occasionally, an old photograph, an important date, or a loved one’s worrisome silence brings the tarnished bracelet to mind. I may turn the charms, rub at the tarnish, and remember my once shining son.
The pain can be blinding.
Willfully, I choose to touch the smooth beads instead. The what-ifs, wishes and if-only thoughts are like dark alleys. No way out. My puffy heart loves the new me too much to travel those worn roads I once stalled on.
The bracelet drags. Heavy, like a handcuff. My hard-earned discipline, self-compassion, and cultivated resilience hold the key.
I imagine adding a mother’s graduation cap. Its gleaming silver contrasts with the dark charms of a receding past. And then I imagine my new bracelet, pleasantly tinkling with the airy charms of an intentional life. They are fewer and well-chosen.
In the darkness, I conjure a velvet-lined jewelry box, unclasp the weighty bracelet, and tuck the past safely inside. As the lid snaps shut, the last light catches upon my graduation cap, which will be preserved.
A day may come to re-examine those experiences from my less-than-charmed life. For now, though, that history is safely stored. The old bracelet no longer fits.
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27 thoughts on “The Charm bracelet”
Thank you for this touching story – a Beautiful way to visualise our hurt and our joy and move on through it.
My Lovè goes out to everyone in here -we are such brave people and I always feel such a lìving connection on here where I know I am seen through others words. Thank you x
Thank you for this. I can identify 100%. Every time I think things are better with my son, they just get worse. He has been angry with me since my divorce 13 years ago. Since then he’s been married and has two adorable kids that I hardly ever see. He went through his own divorce a few years ago, and is so angry with the world and with women in general, that it just piles on top of the animosity he already has for me. I think he blames me for the divorce from his alcoholic father. He idolizes him and it makes me wonder what has been said behind my back. I can’t let myself dwell there, but I do wonder. My son is not a talker, and has never been good at showing his emotions, so I just let him be. It just makes me so sad because the years are clipping by, and apparently he doesn’t think grandparents have much of a place in the life of his kids. I wish he could get past the anger and move on, but he is obsessed with his ex wife and her boyfriend. So much so that it scares me. He blames me for blowing up the ‘perfect little family’, when I had no choice. It took me 36 years and 2 years with Al Anon to make me wake up to what was happening. I wish I could talk to him, but he just gets angry and lashes out. I don’t want to seem like a whiny old lady, so I try to keep to myself. He is like his father in that he dismisses what I say anyway. I so wish that he could get help, but he wouldn’t listen. It’s a no-win. I have been begging for his affection for many years, and finally realized I can’t make him love me. Like the Bonnie Raitt song. I have all the love in the world for him, since we used to be really close. But he doesn’t want it. So, it is what it is, to use a tired quote. I will keep the image of the charm bracelet in the back of my mind.
This!!! Thank you for this beautiful piece! I do this very thing and will be fine for months, then memories hit me and also things/moments that i am missing now with my 20 y/o ES. I can no longer carry the guilt backpack, the what-if’s, the “let me send him one more letter” hoping this will be the time that he caves and reaches out to me. I cherish the time that i had with him, but cannot hold these thoughts for comfort. They are neatly stashed away, but within reach , and i have moved on with my life. I live for me, do for me and take care of me which i have never done. My heart breaks for anyone that is going through this (4 1/2 years for me with no contact) but, i am relieved to see that i am not the only one experiencing this. For the longest time, I isolated and blamed myself. I have or had a 3rd party involved (step mother) that encouraged and bad mouthed me to my son, so over time, i suppose she brain washed him and he finally surrendered.
I don’t visit this site often anymore, or listen to podcasts or read books about adult estrangement. My heart will always hurt, but life goes on and i don’t have to accept this form of abuse.
Dear Sherri,
Your writing was especially moving for me. I thank you for your thoughts and they will help me to carry on.
Cheers to everyone out there!
Marianne
Thankyou, Sherri,
I needed to be reminded who and what to put in the box. I struggle with wanting to isolate, and so often I place myself in the box. Sometimes it’s easier for me to hide from the world until I realize the world will just keep going whether I am part of it or not. I will read this letter often in hopes of being able to place my cherished memories and past life as a mother in there. I might peek occasionally just to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
You, and all the parents who post on here have been a blessing. Prayers and love to you all.
As always, Sheri, you write so beautifully about the pain of estrangement. This month was especially eloquent, the visuals and symbolism of the charms truly hit me. Like a faraway time.
Sometimes I feel like I dreamed the 24 years I spent loving and cherishing my ES, believing that same love was returned by him. He is now a cold indifferent negative person who withholds any affection and ignores me and the rest of his family, has no feelings for us whatsoever. I often wonder… was he always this way and I didn’t see it? Or did he indeed change when he met his girlfriend? I don’t know. But I’ve come to accept it and I rarely cry anymore. Like a death, I’ve gone through the stages of grief and have realized I have to move on. Wishing everyone peace.
Dear Sheri,
I hesitated to open your newsletter today because I didn’t want to think about my ED. I passed over it several times before eventually opening it. I’m so glad I did. The words and images you weave together heal me in ways that nothing else does. To say you ‘get it’ – all the many facets – the light and dark, hope and despair, the grief that will always be a part of me, yet doesn’t define me. Yep, you get it all.
As I read several articles, I smiled and reminded myself that I always feel better after reading your articles – not because you write about rainbows and unicorns (so to speak), but because you are honest. You put words to my negative thoughts and feelings as well as the positive ones. You recognize and give space to both. Your ability to honestly see and name the many shards that go into this awful thing called estrangement, helps me see that each is only a small piece going into the whole picture of me. I am more than an estranged parent. .
You are a master resilience mentor! I thank you for all your wisdom and support. Keep adding new charms to your beautiful bracelet. You have many lovely memories and connections to make!
Aw, Sheri, this is wonderful; thank you so much.
“A pair of precision glasses to replace a rose-colored pair.” That’s what I really needed and now I feel I have them.
The photographs of her childhood were driving me nuts: all thebirthday ckes I had baked and decoated, all theHalloween costumes I had designed and sewn, all the many hours of homework supervision and play groups and slumber parties and shopping rips and meals cooked and rooms cleaned and parties planned and sports practices and ballet classes and flute lessons and afterschool activities and social events… those photos showed me the thousands of hours I wasted on that that child. Wasted: no, not really wasted, because it was the right thing to do to give parenting her 100%. I can honestly say I did a good job, and these pictures prove it. She was hapy, laughing, goofing around, well cared for. I did that.
But fast forward to now. That much-loved child is now an ungrateful 42-year-old adult who decided “low contact” was best for her. Now I receive self-centered letters every couple of weeks. Classics like “Sorry you were in the hospital, hope your heart attack isn’t too bad” (!!!!). ALLL about her, always, and I of course fed that narc-monster and catered to its every whim for decades. A therapist said I was one of her “flying monkeys,” a term I was unfamiliar with. But I never fully realized or understood this terrible truth about my own flesh and blood until I put on the precision glasses and threw away the rose-colored ones.
Here is something that might help others: I’ve moved on with my life and am happy and active now, I am BEYOND DONE WITH THE CRYING!! As Sheri’s book title puts it.
Last month I took the several thousand saved photos of my estranged daughter’s childhood and had them all digitized. The service just sent them back, and the digitized images are now downloaded and stored on two thumb drives: one for me, to be put away, and one I’m going to send her on her next birthday (43). I think a ritual bonfire on the beach of all the photos themselves may be a healing thing for me, and I’ll be wearing the precision glasses.
Thank you so much, Sheri.
Sheri, this is wonderful way to share your experience with E. It’s just heartbreaking to read how you felt during that early time. No one can describe it better than you have with the charm bracelet. We are all blessed by the things you write, no matter where we are in our acceptance of what may be. Take good care of that foot.
I am not ready to stop trying.
Oh Sheri! I feel you wrote that just for me after knowing me for a lifetime.
But of course you didn’t and you never have known me.
I wonder if you truly know how your words touch each and every one of us. All with a unique story to tell but with one factor that binds us all.
Thirty eight long years for me now. One brief meeting ( eight years ago) in all that time. Only for him to verbally abuse me by a text message after we parted, on what I believed was a very positive meeting.
He told me he would visit me the following week. He didn’t turn up. After he refused to accept my phone call I texted him and asked him to be honest with me.
I asked if I was the only one crying tears over our situation . He replied “ Yep, still an emotional wreck.”
He then blocked me on his phone.
How cruel is that?
But some good came out of it. I now had something to help me let go of him. After all those years of silence. Never knowing why. Never knowing where he was. Never being able to tell anyone of my shame. (as I perceived it.)
Seeing those words he aimed at me so coldly, brought back all those memories that you write so eloquently of Sheri and he managed to trash them in five cold words.
I now realise I meant nothing to him.
I brought him up as a single parent. Always in employment. Struggling financially, but never letting him see that. He always went on school holidays abroad. He was my pride and joy. My boy. My biggest love.
His father let us down. A drug user who lost his life to them aged 27.
If I am perceived as “an emotional wreck” by him, then far better than a cold uncaring son who thought so little of his own mother.
The healing started when I read those words he texted to me and I continue to work on my healing every day.
Thank you Sheri. Big hugs from the UK.
♥”Simply Divinely Charming & Healing”♥…
Thank You…Beloved Beautiful Sheri…For Sharing Your Heart’s Wisdom…
♥May You & Each Beloved One Here …
Be Blessed In Body…Mind…& Spirit♥
♥In Infinite Gratitude & Friendship♥
Meowzurrr
These comments really and truly help me put them in another place so that I protect my own health and sanity. Thank you. Mimi S
I love your charm bracelet analogy. Thank you for speaking to me and understanding
Beautifully put. It was such a comforting thing to read. Thanks you and fully recovery and speedy healing ❤️ with your foot.
Much lov
I appreciate your story, I never had a charm bracelet but I have the photos. During my time of estrangement with my son & his wife, it was too painful to even look at them. Your a wonderful writer & definitely spot on. My son contacted me in by text May and asked if I wanted to go out to eat with just him for Mother’s Day. I accepted his offer and he picked me up and we went to a restaurant. I was happy to see him as it’s been 2 1/2 years and they live less than 5 miles from me. My Mom passed away at hospice Christmas Day, we had spoken briefly then. I have to say, it was surreal, our conversation felt scripted, no mention of why we were estranged or any sensitive subject at all was spoken. When he dropped me off I asked if he and his wife wanted to come to dinner, he said he would check with her & get back to me. I heard back a couple weeks later when he asked if I wanted to go out to eat for a belated birthday. I believe my feeling that his wife has full control of him is not wrong. He is so different, I know life can change us but he used to be such a happy guy, a real jokester but that’s all gone. They had decided not to have children and live for themselves, they comment how changeling their friends lives are that have children & are happy they didn’t. I have a grand dog that apparently they have spent over $6,000 on for her surgeries and health problems. I had them over for dinner, the date chosen by his wife, I worked really hard to prepare for their visit and to say it was relaxing, easy breezy would be a lie. The elephant in the room was never mentioned, the dinner felt rushed, she developed a bad stomach ache so it ended without having coffee or dessert. My son just gathered up the dog, their belongings, loaded up the car and received a text from her that they got home safe & thanks for dinner. That was over a week ago. I really don’t have any expectations of our relationship growing stronger at this point. I had prayed everyday for God to soften their heart’s, I am trying to be gracious for what I have been allowed to have with my son. I must remember that God gave my son his life, he didn’t give his life to me. I have my own journey in this life, his journey is not my journey. Bless you all and may you find peace in your life, with or without them as life is a wisp of wind. My husband (not my son’s father) died suddenly in front of me 7/14/1994 in a hotel, that was 30 years ago. We were only together for 4 years, life goes by very quickly. Please, try and find the joy.
This essay on loss as well as remembering is both gorgeous writing and bittersweet thoughts.
I had a dream last night of my estranged son and how our house had crumbled yet in the basement his decorations for his birthday party remained intact. I needed to read this piece of yours this morning. Thank you.
Thank you Sherri, you are so kind to help us all know we are not alone! It is such a comfort! Thank you so much. God bless you Big and with healing to your foot ♥️
Dear Sheri- You have a beautiful heart and an amazing way with words. I, too, don’t know how I would have gotten through these many (over 25) years without your books and blogs. I feel blessed to have been able to move forward, have an active and productive life with my husband of over 2O years and new relationships with my 8 grandchildren. I still have thoughts and dreams about my estranged sons but they no longer consume me. I have let go of family members that don’t want to have a relationship with me and that gives me more time to focus on family, friends and endeavors that bring me joy! The Charm Bracelet was a lovely gift and timely reminder that our memories are real and forever and life goes on. You are our gift… sending healing vibes!
This is beautifully put! Thank you for this!
Perfect analogy, Sheri! Put those old fears and worries in a box, any kind of box, and lock it. Keep them in their place and free yourself of the burden. Thank you so much!
Thank you for such an eloquent analogy ❤️
I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found your book and then your blogs Sheri. I feel ok for ages, sometimes months and think I have let them all go and then suddenly, out of the blue it just overwhelms me again. Maybe a family birthday, when I’m hoping they will be there, my birthday when I hope she will at least send a text, but of course nothing . The last nasty message was when I found out where she lived and dropped a card, wine and flowers off for her on the step outside. I have no idea what I have done to her apart from support her and look after her children. One of my grand children used to cry when I took her home and say she wanted to stay with me, thats the only thing I can think of, but theres nothing that could not have been sorted.
Thank you.. A good reminder. I’m making my way to letting go of the old bracelet..there’s new friends, new charms..love reading your posts
In stead of a charm bracelet I have many photographs from the past highlighting the good times I had with my now estranged daughter and her beautiful children that I had the pleasure of looking after when they were young. Beautiful memories. Some of the best years of my life. A differant era but I am so glad they happenned. No one can take away those memories from me not even my estranged daughter.
This email came while I was watching HillBilly Elogy and just opened it while I was watching scenes of the Alcoholic mother which reminded me of how many times I visited my daughter in rehab, drove 8 hours to bring her son to her so they could visit.. and then my son who believes I made her an alcoholic. I started to feel guilty thinking I shouldn’t be crying after almost 3 years and the email came. Flashbacks I am reminded and it’s ok.. I started to play golf with some other ladies just the other day. Memories won’t go away, pain will lessen and I though I miss 2 of my children and 3 grandchildren, I will
Keep on living and rest in God’s plan.
Great analogy Sherri. I too have wonderful charms both received and purchased celebrating my motherhood to my beautiful baby boy and later my grandmotherhood to my beautiful granddaughters, my son’s daughters now grown up. Unfortunately gradual alientation occurred when I couldn’t seem to place a step right with my daughter-in-law. Both my son and his wife have a history of cutting people out of their lives and they have now passed this on to their adult children. I have learned, with your help, to keep those fond memories of raising my boy and holidays with my granddaughters and realizing that I did absolutely nothing that would warrant such rejection. I try my best to not miss what I’m missing in the present and have built a life surrounded by people who love me for who I am. Thanks very much to you for pulling me out of three years of absolute grief.
Finally! You express so clearly an eloquently the feelings that I thought no one else shared. I’ve been struggling in how to express how I feel here and now in the present moment about the estrangement of my adult daughter. Thank you for expressing what I’ve been feeling in my heart, but didn’t know how to explain.