Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts

Friday, May 19, 2023

Some goodbyes are hard

This Is It

Losing grandparents is hard. The heartbreak you experience of losing a favorite grandparent transcends all sorts of pain. It is even more hurtful if you have loved them as profoundly as they loved you although I doubt any grandkid can beat the love of their grandparents. When I lost my paternal grandmother in the early 2000s, I felt a pang of regret that I did not get to know her enough. She was a warm, compassionate person who talked less but expressed through her actions of affirmative love: being prepared with the best dishes the Delhi-based grandchildren liked, sending the most sumptuous 'pothichoru' (piping hot meal wrapped in lightly toasted banana leaf) for our train journey back home, and spending hours peeling off jackfruit and banana to make snacks for us to share with our friends (and brag). She had a fuzzy way of saying goodbye to us. As we loaded our luggage into the car, she would call my brother and me, and give the 'sniff-kiss'. For the uninitiated, sniff kiss was her kissing us on our hands and occasionally, on the cheeks and sniffing while doing so. It was as if she was trying to soak in our scent to lend her strength till we visited again the following year. I never really cried when I saw her resting peacefully in our house courtyard, surrounded by people offering condolences to the grieving family. It only took the sight of her being lit up in the funeral pyre that I realized: 'this is it'; she is not coming back. And the dams broke. I will never see her again in that home, sitting on the porch flanked by the sky blue walls sipping tea and reading the daily newspaper, her vision 20/20 till the day she passed away; I will never share the same room with her, hearing her stomach-quivering low laugh when the cousins would crack a joke; I will never feel her sniffing my hands that left a lingering smell of her on the back of my hand. It was too late before it hit me that I did not make enough memories with her.

My paternal grandmother

My ammumma

All this while, I was attached to my maternal grandparents. My ammumma (maternal grandmother) raised me and being the oldest (and the only female child) in the house, I was a very spoiled child. Coming to meet them after a stay at my dad's house was a huge dynamic shift because I was the queen here unlike there where I had to fight for my voice to be heard in the cousin hierarchy. Ask and ye shall receive was the order of the house here. Ammumma and I would spend HOURS talking, giggling, and gossiping about the most banal things, and it never felt like a chore to spend all that time. I loved trapping her in the vicious cycle of 'run your hands through my hair to check for knots' and that was it: heaven. She would tell me about who married whom, the news article that shocked her, her next to nil love declarations, antics of her siblings, and frustrations of having a discipline-bound husband, and it would continue. She would share all this while also giving me tips on having voluminous hair, luscious skin, and occasionally desperate pleas to not cut my long hair. I consider myself to be extremely fortunate to have accompanied her on her much much-desired visits to the places she wanted to go to fulfill her late mother's wishes.


On the afternoon of 17th May, I lost my ammumma. Although she struggled in her final days being bedridden, she passed away peacefully. I was with my friends when I received the news. Have you ever felt a soul-crushing pain that comes when you experience something incredibly tragic? I felt that sense of pain. Seeing her limp, lifeless body that I once saw with effervescence broke my spirit. As I put the last few grains of rice in her mouth as a part of the final rites, the memories of her running behind me with her childlike feet, to feed me, rushed into my mind. She absolutely hated that I ate sparingly when I was engrossed in work. Seeing a few grains of rice stuck on my palm, I thought to myself: 'This is it'. A fully grown adult who raised me into this version of me is reduced to this.
You feel the void when people you love pass away, regardless of your relationship. You see them in the things or situations you once shared with them. The 'Ah! I wish she was here to see this!' consumes you. Letting my ammumma go was necessary but heartbreaking. She would often joke 'I don't think I will be alive to see you...' and add something morally offensive as per my standards and to which I would scoff and walk off. She did, however, see me tick all the significant milestones of my life. And I would like to believe that despite her slipping memory, she took all those critical moments in, locking them safely in the confines of her mind. 


Watching her funeral pyre, I bid goodbye to her for the last time: walking back to a house where I will never see her waiting for me. I will never feel her fingers caress my hair. I will never see her on the edge of my bed at 4am, constantly reminding me every half hour that it is time to wake up for my 9am bus. I will never see the shock on her face when I would experiment with her hairstyles: the last being a pixie cut because I thought it was cute (and because she was too frail to fight me). I will never hear her say words of affirmation and affection that she loved throwing around like confetti to family and random strangers. She was undisputed in the domain of 'unconditional love' and the woman gave generously and expected nothing in return. I often told her that she was the reason I trusted people implicitly and grew up to be extrovert max, which is not always good. And yet, she would make it a point to go and talk to every person at a wedding or a funeral or a roadside stall. 



I decided that I will not mourn her loss. I definitely feel grief, but I will not wallow in misery because she loved living her finite life. She loved, she lost, she slipped, but she never erred in her ways of showing compassion and empathy. And that is something I will continue to cherish and aspire to secure for myself too. Even though this goodbye was exceptionally hard, I am glad that I experienced her love and that she chose me to share her love. Here's to you Ammumma, you bloody amazing human. You have no idea how much we are going to miss you.




Friday, June 19, 2020

You Have Something I Need

Attachment is the Source of All Suffering
-Buddha in Psych

Initially, I thought that when I start blogging, I should stick to mundane things that everyone can relate to. But then I thought what is the point of blogging if I do not bring out the everyday things through an educational perspective because hey! that is the ONE job I have. So, tedious as it may seem for some of you to read (apologies), I am always excited to bring forth a new theory or model that fascinates me and has helped me in some way or the other. This post is about something that all of us feel and experience with things/people we deeply care for and so end up developing a set of behaviours, desirable or undesirable, to win their affection. 

Attachment
Our first memory of attachment is definitely our mothers. There is a certain comfort in the posture of the newborn babies when they are caressed and held closely by their mothers while they are being fed and eventually, the babies falling asleep. There is an unspoken trust. A feeling that we are safe in her arms. And so, by default, our minds are wired to scream 'Amma!' or 'Maa' the moment we get hurt or distressed or shocked. That is the relationship our brain attributes to the attachment with our caregiver thereby giving birth to a series of behaviours that often lead to us doing the same thing when in a stressful situation.

There is a very upsetting experiment that was conducted by Harry Harlow in 1958 [1;2] wherein he wanted to study how newborn rhesus monkeys bond with their mothers. As popular as it was, the disturbing premise of it was to create two experiments to gauge behaviours: 
1) baby monkeys separated from their mothers at birth and reared in two groups, with a  surrogate mother aka a 'mother' made out of wire and another one made out of terry towel cloth; four monkeys each with each mother (image below) [4]
2) baby monkeys separated from their mothers at birth and reared in complete isolation;

Experiment #1

The mother made of wire had the milk bottle attached to it whereas the cloth mother just existed, figuratively speaking. Harlow observed that both set of monkeys formed a bond with the cloth mother even though 'she' gave no milk. Whenever they got hungry, they went to the wire mother, have milk, and then come back snuggle with the cloth mother. If any danger or obstacle would be placed in the cage, both sets of monkeys would run and cling to the cloth mother for support. He concluded that it is the sensitive care and security given by the cloth mother which surpassed the one that provided food. 



The second experiment was even worse. He reared baby monkeys (gah!) in complete isolation in cages [5] to observe their behaviours as opposed to the ones raised in normal environments. He kept these monkeys alone for 3 months; some for six; some for nine; and some for the first whole year of their lives. Subsequently, when he put them back in with other monkeys, these isolated monkeys exhibited strange behaviours (you don't say!). Although initially they were scared of the other monkeys, later they became very aggressive towards them: doing self-harm, scratching themselves vigorously, tearing their hair out, and biting themselves. And Harlow wrapped up the experiment saying that privation or never forming an attachment bond can be emotionally scarring for monkeys in the long run. He also found that the more they were kept in isolation, the more bizarre their behaviour became: the ones who were kept for a year never recovered from the trauma. Furthermore, the female monkeys became so neurotic that when they became parents, they ended up hitting their infant's face onto the floor and rubbing it back and forth. Since the time I came to know of this man, I have been wondering why did he think of this as a smart experiment. As a researcher, I do understand you have to have some variables to come up with a theory and he did end up disproving the prevalent idea that attachment is merely physical (food) rather than emotional care but come on, man!

Experiment #2

Later, in the 1970s, Mary Ainsworth conducted another experiment, which she called the 'Strange Situation Classification' (SSC) wherein she analysed how attachments vary between children [2;3]. The experiment conducted with human babies included 100 mothers with their babies observed in a series of 8 consecutive episodes of interaction between the mother, baby, and a stranger (a moderator variable of sorts). The episodes recorded the reactions of the baby when the mother and baby were alone; mother leaving the baby alone; mother and stranger with the baby (stranger anxiety); baby alone with the stranger (separation anxiety); and the reunions of mother and baby. Each episode lasted 3 minutes each and the behavior of the babies upon reunion primarily ranged from seeking contact and maintaining that proximity or avoidance of contact and resisting comfort with varying intensities. The babies also indulged in exploratory behaviours like playing with the toys in the room, search behaviours like looking around (for their mom), banging on the door when mother left, staring at the door, looking at mother's empty chair, and expressive behaviours like crying or smiling. 
With this experiment, she and another researcher, John Bowlby, came up with three attachment styles, which would be one of the biggest contributions in understanding the relationships between a caregiver and child [6]. Later, researchers Main and Solomon (1986) added a fourth attachment style based on their own study.
1. Secure Attachment Style: Forming the majority of the kids who participated in the experiment, this comprised of children who felt confident that the attachment figure would come back and meet their needs. They inherently knew they had a 'safe base' so they bravely explored the environment and did seek out for the attachment figures when in distress (knowing that they would be heard). According to Bowlby  and other following findings, an individual who experienced a secure attachment is likely to grow up trusting others to be available, responsive, and helpful based on the modelling received. They are better at taking the perspectives of others and display resilience in challenging situations.
In a relationship, this group of people will be secure and connected to their partners without feeling the need to be together. They are often advocates of honesty, independence, and intense emotional connections [7].

2. Anxious Avoidant Style: This group comprised of children who were detached from their attachment figures and explored their environment without flinching. They weren't particularly inclined to seek comfort from their attachment figures when distressed. This indicated that they likely had a caregiver who is insensitive and rejecting of their needs so they have acclimatised to being independent both physically and emotionally. According to findings, an individual who has this is likely to be emotionally unavailable, consider themselves unworthy, withdraw from stressful situations, have trouble in forming satisfying relationships and often, may also show antisocial behavior such as lying or bullying (all because they prefer distancing themselves from others to reduce emotional distress)
In a relationship, this group will feel that they do not need any human connection to survive. They insist on being independent and easily shut down their emotions in hurtful situations especially during arguments with the partner [7].

3. Anxious Ambivalent/Resistant Style: This group comprised of children who were clingy and dependent towards the attachment figure but will also fail to engage in interaction the next moment. They develop mistrust in the attachment figure and also find it challenging to explore the environment without the figure. They are difficult to comfort and this is because of the inconsistent level of response given to them by their caregivers back home. According to findings, an individual who is anxious ambivalent is most likely to have a low self-esteem, are confused, and stick closely to the primary caregivers. They display exaggerated emotions and reactions to stressful situations and keep their distance from peers, often ending in social isolation. 
In a relationship, this group will be desperate to secure bonds and feel that their partner must complete them or fix their problems, presumably pushing away their partners for being clingy, jealous, demanding, or easily upset [7].

4. Disorganised/Disoriented Attachment Style: Emerging from the need to address child abuse at home, this outlines the possibility of abuse and trauma faced by the child. This group comprised of children who had attachment figures offer inconsistent emotional support and/or abuse (verbal, emotional, physical or sexual) or when the child witnesses an attachment figure engage in a traumatising act (eg: domestic violence, suicide). And because the child doesn't have the safe base, they tend to fear or resent the attachment figure. Often, this happens as a result of responding to the children in the unhealthy ways that their own parents responded to them when they were young. According to findings, an individual who is disorganised/disoriented usually fail to cope with separation anxiety. They tend to have aggressive behaviours often leading to social ostracisation. They see others as threats instead of support and may oscillate between social withdrawal and defensive aggressive behaviour; likely to develop PTSD and become anti-social (especially lack of empathy and delinquency).
In a relationship, this group will become ambivalent as adults. They will avoid indulging in emotional conversations because it overwhelms them. They may have unpredictable mood swings and will be always wary of their partners, making sure they do not get too attached. Needless to say, they fail to form meaningful and healthy relationships with others [7].

When I was shy of 5-6 years of age, my father used to pat me to sleep. And often, like all fathers, he would doze off. So I would nudge him awake so that he would resume patting. The patting was even more crucial to me on the days when I was sick. In hindsight, I am glad that I was born into a family where physical affection was never restrained. All four of us (well, my brother not as much since he thinks he is too old for some louuu but still to an extent, he succumbs) are highly expressive and openly declare our affection. And I do attribute that a lot to the kind of childhood they had and the emotional care they received from their parent/s. 
I don't know why I went in that direction this time. Maybe because I am stuck here without my family, in privation, and without the comfort of the cloth mother, but as I write this, it is 2:30am. And here I am, thinking about the baby monkeys. But the real reason why I wanted to explore this set of theories is to give a peek into what attachment or the lack of it, in what is called the critical period, can lead to a behavioural change in our kids down the line. The onus is on us, as parents, to understand that providing physical care aside, providing emotional care is what the child will remember and hold onto. Modelling the right behavior, giving adequate psychosocial support, and of course, lending out that physical comfort and warmth instills assurance in the mind of the child at a very young age and makes them feel confident enough to take on the whole world. 
I am hopeful that as the world stumbles into a very different time for our growing young adults, we extend just that extra dollop of love and comfort their way whenever they feel like clinging on. Because nothing can and nothing should replace the relief we get when we are right where we are supposed to be: home, with our parents. 

References:




[4]; [5] Google Images








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