Speaking my truth & pain. Being shockingly exciled from my granddaughters— overnight— without a word of explanation —to this day— cut off from all of them, they were 11,9,7,5 overnight … blocked from calling loving laughing texting— overnight, gone, swish … without an argument discussion not a single word — is WORSE than the DEATH of my son. Far far worse in its brutality, shock, coldness. The pain and grief nearly killed me.
Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry. It is worse than a death in many ways — no public rituals, no outward signs of this new reality of loss. I hope you are taking care of yourself, loving yourself, and doing what you can to find meaning and purpose in your life and in this loss. Know that you are loved and the angels (if this is comfortable for you) want for your happiness, peace, and well-being.
As a mother of a bereaved son, I can attest that it is not worse because you’re regardless of how much they have hurt us and denied us and identity as parents and grandparents. They are still alive and well.
Something that dead children are not . It is what is referred to as ambiguous grief. An unrequited love.
I would much rather have my deceased son still alive, here on this earth and happy in regardless of his ill-founded and a self-serving perspective …. At least he is still breathing, feeling and existing.
I agree — I truly hope you put these chronicles or installments together in a book. Meantime thank you for making these available here.
I did not have the benefit of having loving relationships with grandparents — or really, parents, either. Remember the lines from one of Emily Dickinson’s poems (she did not give her poems titles):
“To comprehend the nectar/Requires the sorest need.” There were just too many children in my generation of a large Irish Catholic family and I understand how the adults were tapped out. But I can attest from the lack of loving adults — grandparents — how helpful these elders would have been for me and my siblings.
Steven, I wanted to ask what your thoughts are on the rise of the primacy of psychological therapy as a model for health combined with an erasure of spiritual/moral guidelines. It feels like a one-two punch, injuring the capacity to want and work for benefits beyond one’s more shortsighted ego-driven desires. I think without any moral framework, it’s just easier to get swept up into self-centered models of meaning and gratification.
I was raised Catholic but I don’t ascribe to that belief system now. Our older son is estranged from us so we are also cut off from our 3 yo granddaughter.
"I wanted to ask what your thoughts are on the rise of the primacy of psychological therapy as a model for health combined with an erasure of spiritual/moral guidelines."
For me, it's a reflection of technocratic scientism (science as a religion or system of belief) providing a replacement for what was provided through community of older (arguably, wiser and more experienced) grandparents and uncles/aunts and people like the local priest or clergyman, with online forums replacing the social reference to physically present neighbours and groups of friends. Therapy gives the appearance of a scientifically approved ideologically neutral alternative, which may nor may not be true, but is what is projected through media as the go-to norm. The objective truth of these assertions of neutrality and scientific rigor and superiority is somewhat debatable and, to a large degree, I suspect it depends on which therapist one goes to—much as was the case with the local priest. As I say, its debatable as a science—clearly it's not remotely akin to the laws of physics that underpin electronics and engineering. There's too much subjectivity, with human relations involving shifting complexity, emotionality and often seemingly irrational responses.
Overlaying all of this we have a number of social movements that have been highly influential in academic studies—for instance the Frankfurt School writers like Marcuse, Fromm, Adorno and Horkheimer, and post-modernists like Foucault and Lacan—whose writings on liberating society from old and oppressive "patriarchal" power structures has had a big influence on education and the social sciences. Many of the modern drives to hyper individualism, erasure of old support mechanisms and techno-scientism fall into this system of thought.
So we see priests --> therapists; anointed saints --> scientists; the church --> university or government; "Believe in God" --> "Believe The Science". It's just another religion—just one that is less human.
Thank you for this response. What you said makes sense to me. It all feels very soulless and denatured to me. Thank you also for understanding that I wasn’t proposing bringing back “old-time religion” as a cure. I live my life in a values-based way and feel most consonant when I’m with others who do the same. I’ve had to accept the reality that my son as an adult seems quite selfish. I’m sorting out that his callousness is a reflection on him and also a sign to me that something is not healthy in the culture at large. I appreciate your posts because they are helping me get my bearings. I’ll research the Frankfurt School and the academic writers that you mentioned. Thank you again.
Grandparents hold a unique and irreplaceable place in a child’s life. They can be sources of love, wisdom, and continuity, often stepping in to provide stability where needed. I was fortunate to have my maternal grandmother as a child. I absolutely adored her…she was the only adult in my life besides my mother, and for years, I spent more time with her than anyone else. That bond shaped me in ways I still carry today.
In some cultures, not having active grandparents in your life means you are, in a sense, an “orphan.” In places like Reggio Emilia, Italy, children without engaged grandparents receive additional community support, recognizing the role elders play in raising and grounding younger generations. It’s a perspective I deeply respect, especially when I think about how much my grandmother meant to me.
At the same time, I’ve also seen how family dynamics can turn these relationships into something transactional. I watched my aunt use my male cousins against my grandmother, limiting her involvement unless she paid for their sports and activities. That kind of emotional gatekeeping is painful to witness, and unfortunately, it’s not uncommon in estranged families.
Despite the abuse I suffered through with my mother, I still wanted her to have the chance to be a grandparent. I set boundaries-especially regarding communication with our child due to my past and current experiences. I didn’t and don’t want to deprive my child of the potential for a meaningful relationship with her. Now, with our current estrangement, my husband handles communication when our son wants to speak with her. Living on a sailboat in Southeast Asia while she resides on the West Coast of the U.S. provides a natural boundary that I’m grateful for, despite the harsh reality it represents.
On the other hand, my in-laws, despite being in their 70s, have chosen a lifestyle that doesn’t prioritize their health. As a result, their ability to engage with our very active 7-year-old is limited. It’s a different kind of loss…not one caused by conflict, but by the choices they’ve made for themselves. It’s a reminder that while some grandparents fight to be in their grandchildren’s lives, others, intentionally or not, step back simply by not taking care of themselves.Finding that balance, between what is possible and what is healthy, is one of the hardest but most important acts of love we can offer both our children and ourselves.
Thanks Carri, Some really valuable insights here. As well as the good and loving, many different family members are also sometimes careless and sometimes even abusive. Relationships are truly complex.
I really hope you put all of this together in a book... Amazing insight. Born out if your own pain and experiences but it does help parents/grandparents/siblings understand the mindset of those going no contact. Thank you!!!
I appreciate the ongoing exploration of adult child estrangement and its impact on grandparents, but I believe there is a crucial layer missing from much of the discourse: namely, the generational patterns of emotional neglect, manipulation, and abuse that often go unacknowledged- either to spiritual blindness, ignorance, or pride.
Many adult children who choose limited or no contact with their parents do so not out of ideological influence or impulsive rejection, but as a deeply anguished response to longstanding patterns of harm. What is often labeled today as “emotional manipulation” by grandparents is, in many cases, a continuation of dynamics that were present in the child’s upbringing—dynamics where their emotional needs were routinely dismissed, twisted, or used against them.
Books and clinical research on complex trauma consistently reveal that verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse—while often minimized by older generations—can have even more enduring, soul-damaging effects than physical abuse… sometimes even worse than even sexual trauma. Yet these forms of harm remain some of the most overlooked and denied. When grandparents are bewildered by accusations of emotional manipulation, it’s often because they never examined how they themselves employed those very tactics in the past, often unconsciously, and without repair. Perhaps repairing the wounds they caused their own adult children feels painfully impossible when they were not given the same opportunity with their parents who may now be deceased.
Much of the way parents address their adult children—especially in response to estrangement or boundary-setting—can often be traced back to unhealed wounds from their own upbringing. Many were conditioned to believe that parental authority granted them unquestioned control, and that respect was something owed, regardless of how they treated their children. This deeply ingrained belief—that parents can act however they choose while still demanding robotic obedience and loyalty—has been culturally and spiritually normalized in past generations. But biblically and relationally, this simply isn't true. Age and authority do not excuse mistreatment. In the kingdom of God, leadership and authority are always meant to be exercised through humility, accountability, and sacrificial love—not coercion or control.
My own experience speaks to this. When I began gently and kindly raising the mildest concerns with my parents just to assess for safety, their responses were shockingly cruel: I was immediately called hateful, mentally ill, ungrateful, and accused of inventing abuse because “at least they didn’t rape or murder me.” These reactions made it clear that even a respectful, emotionally vulnerable dialogue was not safe. If this is how they responded to the “light stuff,” how could we ever approach the deeper pain?
What’s seen in online forums or brief accounts doesn’t begin to capture the full complexity behind these decisions. Many adult children grieve the loss of a relationship with their parents and often extend repeated, painful efforts toward reconciliation—efforts that are met not with humility or curiosity, but with defensiveness, blame-shifting, and spiritual bypassing.
In my case, my mother has expressed sadness about not seeing me or my children. I share that grief. But sadness alone does not constitute relational repair—especially when that sadness is used to pressure me into restoring a dynamic that continues to deny my reality and pain. I am expected to carry her sorrow, while she cannot tolerate hearing mine without lashing out.
What many adult children desire is not estrangement—it’s transformation. It’s to be met with curiosity instead of condemnation. It’s to hear a parent say, “Tell me everything. I want to understand how I hurt you, because I love you and I want to make it right.” But instead, what we often receive is speculation about cultural ideologies or psychological labels that serve to deflect responsibility.
True healing and reconciliation are absolutely possible—but only when accountability is prioritized over image protection. Until then, many of us will continue to love from a distance. Not because we’re unwilling to forgive, but because we’ve learned the hard way that safety and dignity are not optional in any relationship, even with those who raised us.
I look forward to reading more of your insight and conversations related to this painful topic.
Speaking my truth & pain. Being shockingly exciled from my granddaughters— overnight— without a word of explanation —to this day— cut off from all of them, they were 11,9,7,5 overnight … blocked from calling loving laughing texting— overnight, gone, swish … without an argument discussion not a single word — is WORSE than the DEATH of my son. Far far worse in its brutality, shock, coldness. The pain and grief nearly killed me.
Hi Nancy, This sounds awful. You had no warning at all?
Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry. It is worse than a death in many ways — no public rituals, no outward signs of this new reality of loss. I hope you are taking care of yourself, loving yourself, and doing what you can to find meaning and purpose in your life and in this loss. Know that you are loved and the angels (if this is comfortable for you) want for your happiness, peace, and well-being.
As a mother of a bereaved son, I can attest that it is not worse because you’re regardless of how much they have hurt us and denied us and identity as parents and grandparents. They are still alive and well.
Something that dead children are not . It is what is referred to as ambiguous grief. An unrequited love.
I would much rather have my deceased son still alive, here on this earth and happy in regardless of his ill-founded and a self-serving perspective …. At least he is still breathing, feeling and existing.
I agree — I truly hope you put these chronicles or installments together in a book. Meantime thank you for making these available here.
I did not have the benefit of having loving relationships with grandparents — or really, parents, either. Remember the lines from one of Emily Dickinson’s poems (she did not give her poems titles):
“To comprehend the nectar/Requires the sorest need.” There were just too many children in my generation of a large Irish Catholic family and I understand how the adults were tapped out. But I can attest from the lack of loving adults — grandparents — how helpful these elders would have been for me and my siblings.
Steven, I wanted to ask what your thoughts are on the rise of the primacy of psychological therapy as a model for health combined with an erasure of spiritual/moral guidelines. It feels like a one-two punch, injuring the capacity to want and work for benefits beyond one’s more shortsighted ego-driven desires. I think without any moral framework, it’s just easier to get swept up into self-centered models of meaning and gratification.
I was raised Catholic but I don’t ascribe to that belief system now. Our older son is estranged from us so we are also cut off from our 3 yo granddaughter.
"I wanted to ask what your thoughts are on the rise of the primacy of psychological therapy as a model for health combined with an erasure of spiritual/moral guidelines."
For me, it's a reflection of technocratic scientism (science as a religion or system of belief) providing a replacement for what was provided through community of older (arguably, wiser and more experienced) grandparents and uncles/aunts and people like the local priest or clergyman, with online forums replacing the social reference to physically present neighbours and groups of friends. Therapy gives the appearance of a scientifically approved ideologically neutral alternative, which may nor may not be true, but is what is projected through media as the go-to norm. The objective truth of these assertions of neutrality and scientific rigor and superiority is somewhat debatable and, to a large degree, I suspect it depends on which therapist one goes to—much as was the case with the local priest. As I say, its debatable as a science—clearly it's not remotely akin to the laws of physics that underpin electronics and engineering. There's too much subjectivity, with human relations involving shifting complexity, emotionality and often seemingly irrational responses.
Overlaying all of this we have a number of social movements that have been highly influential in academic studies—for instance the Frankfurt School writers like Marcuse, Fromm, Adorno and Horkheimer, and post-modernists like Foucault and Lacan—whose writings on liberating society from old and oppressive "patriarchal" power structures has had a big influence on education and the social sciences. Many of the modern drives to hyper individualism, erasure of old support mechanisms and techno-scientism fall into this system of thought.
So we see priests --> therapists; anointed saints --> scientists; the church --> university or government; "Believe in God" --> "Believe The Science". It's just another religion—just one that is less human.
Thank you for this response. What you said makes sense to me. It all feels very soulless and denatured to me. Thank you also for understanding that I wasn’t proposing bringing back “old-time religion” as a cure. I live my life in a values-based way and feel most consonant when I’m with others who do the same. I’ve had to accept the reality that my son as an adult seems quite selfish. I’m sorting out that his callousness is a reflection on him and also a sign to me that something is not healthy in the culture at large. I appreciate your posts because they are helping me get my bearings. I’ll research the Frankfurt School and the academic writers that you mentioned. Thank you again.
Grandparents hold a unique and irreplaceable place in a child’s life. They can be sources of love, wisdom, and continuity, often stepping in to provide stability where needed. I was fortunate to have my maternal grandmother as a child. I absolutely adored her…she was the only adult in my life besides my mother, and for years, I spent more time with her than anyone else. That bond shaped me in ways I still carry today.
In some cultures, not having active grandparents in your life means you are, in a sense, an “orphan.” In places like Reggio Emilia, Italy, children without engaged grandparents receive additional community support, recognizing the role elders play in raising and grounding younger generations. It’s a perspective I deeply respect, especially when I think about how much my grandmother meant to me.
At the same time, I’ve also seen how family dynamics can turn these relationships into something transactional. I watched my aunt use my male cousins against my grandmother, limiting her involvement unless she paid for their sports and activities. That kind of emotional gatekeeping is painful to witness, and unfortunately, it’s not uncommon in estranged families.
Despite the abuse I suffered through with my mother, I still wanted her to have the chance to be a grandparent. I set boundaries-especially regarding communication with our child due to my past and current experiences. I didn’t and don’t want to deprive my child of the potential for a meaningful relationship with her. Now, with our current estrangement, my husband handles communication when our son wants to speak with her. Living on a sailboat in Southeast Asia while she resides on the West Coast of the U.S. provides a natural boundary that I’m grateful for, despite the harsh reality it represents.
On the other hand, my in-laws, despite being in their 70s, have chosen a lifestyle that doesn’t prioritize their health. As a result, their ability to engage with our very active 7-year-old is limited. It’s a different kind of loss…not one caused by conflict, but by the choices they’ve made for themselves. It’s a reminder that while some grandparents fight to be in their grandchildren’s lives, others, intentionally or not, step back simply by not taking care of themselves.Finding that balance, between what is possible and what is healthy, is one of the hardest but most important acts of love we can offer both our children and ourselves.
Thanks Carri, Some really valuable insights here. As well as the good and loving, many different family members are also sometimes careless and sometimes even abusive. Relationships are truly complex.
I really hope you put all of this together in a book... Amazing insight. Born out if your own pain and experiences but it does help parents/grandparents/siblings understand the mindset of those going no contact. Thank you!!!
I appreciate the ongoing exploration of adult child estrangement and its impact on grandparents, but I believe there is a crucial layer missing from much of the discourse: namely, the generational patterns of emotional neglect, manipulation, and abuse that often go unacknowledged- either to spiritual blindness, ignorance, or pride.
Many adult children who choose limited or no contact with their parents do so not out of ideological influence or impulsive rejection, but as a deeply anguished response to longstanding patterns of harm. What is often labeled today as “emotional manipulation” by grandparents is, in many cases, a continuation of dynamics that were present in the child’s upbringing—dynamics where their emotional needs were routinely dismissed, twisted, or used against them.
Books and clinical research on complex trauma consistently reveal that verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse—while often minimized by older generations—can have even more enduring, soul-damaging effects than physical abuse… sometimes even worse than even sexual trauma. Yet these forms of harm remain some of the most overlooked and denied. When grandparents are bewildered by accusations of emotional manipulation, it’s often because they never examined how they themselves employed those very tactics in the past, often unconsciously, and without repair. Perhaps repairing the wounds they caused their own adult children feels painfully impossible when they were not given the same opportunity with their parents who may now be deceased.
Much of the way parents address their adult children—especially in response to estrangement or boundary-setting—can often be traced back to unhealed wounds from their own upbringing. Many were conditioned to believe that parental authority granted them unquestioned control, and that respect was something owed, regardless of how they treated their children. This deeply ingrained belief—that parents can act however they choose while still demanding robotic obedience and loyalty—has been culturally and spiritually normalized in past generations. But biblically and relationally, this simply isn't true. Age and authority do not excuse mistreatment. In the kingdom of God, leadership and authority are always meant to be exercised through humility, accountability, and sacrificial love—not coercion or control.
My own experience speaks to this. When I began gently and kindly raising the mildest concerns with my parents just to assess for safety, their responses were shockingly cruel: I was immediately called hateful, mentally ill, ungrateful, and accused of inventing abuse because “at least they didn’t rape or murder me.” These reactions made it clear that even a respectful, emotionally vulnerable dialogue was not safe. If this is how they responded to the “light stuff,” how could we ever approach the deeper pain?
What’s seen in online forums or brief accounts doesn’t begin to capture the full complexity behind these decisions. Many adult children grieve the loss of a relationship with their parents and often extend repeated, painful efforts toward reconciliation—efforts that are met not with humility or curiosity, but with defensiveness, blame-shifting, and spiritual bypassing.
In my case, my mother has expressed sadness about not seeing me or my children. I share that grief. But sadness alone does not constitute relational repair—especially when that sadness is used to pressure me into restoring a dynamic that continues to deny my reality and pain. I am expected to carry her sorrow, while she cannot tolerate hearing mine without lashing out.
What many adult children desire is not estrangement—it’s transformation. It’s to be met with curiosity instead of condemnation. It’s to hear a parent say, “Tell me everything. I want to understand how I hurt you, because I love you and I want to make it right.” But instead, what we often receive is speculation about cultural ideologies or psychological labels that serve to deflect responsibility.
True healing and reconciliation are absolutely possible—but only when accountability is prioritized over image protection. Until then, many of us will continue to love from a distance. Not because we’re unwilling to forgive, but because we’ve learned the hard way that safety and dignity are not optional in any relationship, even with those who raised us.
I look forward to reading more of your insight and conversations related to this painful topic.