Dear
Philip,
Our son, his wife, and their delightful
two-year-old daughter live an hour away. While we see them over the holidays
and infrequently throughout the rest of the year, we have never once actually
been invited to their home. We have to ask to go see them and while they don’t
say no, they also don’t make any effort; we have short, perfunctory visits.
When we suggest it would be nice to be
invited, our son says that his in-laws just flow in and out, and we’re
pressuring him by being old-fashioned. We feel that when someone never invites
you, it’s a good indication they don’t want to see you. This has gone on since
they first got married, and frankly, we feel like schmucks. My husband says we
should just stop extending invitations. I agree in theory, but don’t want the
reality of a stand-off. What do we do?
Feeling Unwanted
Dear Feeling:
Please tell your
husband that I’m a hundred and ten percent with him. Which makes your husband
and I at least a hundred and two percent wrong.
I’m saving that
other eight percent to cover the very understandable feeling you both have of
being disrespected, because that’s what this is: Your son is disrespecting you,
and compounding it by being defensive and blaming you for his
thoughtlessness. (“Son, this is rude.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re old fashioned.”)
You likely believe
he wouldn’t treat other people this way, and I believe you’re right. The thing
is, you’re not other people, you’re his parents. You’ve spent your son’s entire
life building a relationship with him where – for the early years, anyway – you
did all the giving, and made all the rules. You gave him unconditional love,
three squares a day, a roof and an education, and a pretty good percentage of
your earnings. And you know what you get
for that, right?
You get taken for
granted.
Now, you’re
momentarily feeling better, since I’ve just written what you’ve felt for the
past several years. And that’s good; I want you to feel better. But I also want
you to have some compassion for the very weirdness of being an adult and a
child at the same time; because part of the equation here is that your son
honestly doesn’t know how to navigate having any say in his relationship with
you. (He’s doing it badly, for the record, but that shouldn’t lessen your compassion.)
It would be
wonderful if all of us grew up and expressed nothing but fealty to the folks
who raised us. Age should be respected; parents should be appreciated. But
we’re all imperfect people, and our resentments and fears and shortcomings
cause us to act in ways that, if we could really self-reflect, often wouldn’t
make us proud. That makes our relationships with the people that shaped us
particularly fraught; sometimes we don’t even understand why we’re in conflict
with them in the first place.
(Passive-Aggression: a game the whole family can play!)
Here’s the good
news, Feeling: you’re not being cut out. You have access to your wonderful
granddaughter, and your son and his family actually show up on the holidays. So
invite them. He’s your son. Invite them and be genuinely glad to see them. He’s
your son. She’s your granddaughter. Make calls throughout the year to arrange
to go to their house, even for short visits. He’s your son. She’s your
granddaughter. Their wife/mother is the woman your son has built a life with.
And you? You’re
bigger than that understandable impulse to want to be treated fairly. (So is your husband – and so am I – but we
need a little time to stew, first.) Your son will learn, when that delightful
granddaughter has a family of her own, that he’s been wrong to take you for
granted. We want nothing more than for our children to grow and learn; just
look at this as something he’ll learn a little later than you’d hoped.
In the meantime,
take comfort in the word you used to describe your granddaughter. Part of the
reason she’s “delightful” is that you raised your son to be a good father.
Yours in lifelong
parenting,
Philip
