In-laws from hell (except my mother-in-law)

I have needed to get this off my chest for quite some time.  You can only complain about in-laws to your spouse for so long without it becoming obnoxious.  Yes.  I can become obnoxious.   I am normally a likable person and I’m well respected in my profession and our community, or so I’ve been told, but this has gotten to me and I am frustrated.

My husband’s brother and sister are horrible people.  They were cordial enough, early on, but now that I haven’t gone away they are just plain rude and won’t even speak to me when we are in the same room.  I am southern enough that I would never be rude, although this rant could be considered rude and even inappropriate.  Maybe so, but if I don’t get this off my chest I am going to explode.  The thing is, I don’t even know where this came from.  I appreciate the fact that my husband was married to his ex for 20 years or something, but they had been divorced five years when I met him.  I did not break up his marriage.  I’ve done a lot for his children, including buying a house for his daughter.  Do I even get a modicum of respect?  No.  And now, neither does he.

We’ll start with his sister, who turns her back when I even say hello.  Who does that?  Why would someone do that?  Marilyn tolerated me until, one day about 6 years ago, my husband suggested to her that occasionally she invite me to a family function.  She stated, “Suzanne is not part of the family.  Kate is.”  Kate is the ex-wife.  Since that day she has refused to even acknowledge my existence.  When she writes to my husband, she signs it with some kind of religious platitude, which just seems hypocritical given her horrible attitude.  At Bob’s daughter’s wedding, she walked up and said hello to Bob but when I said hello to her, she made a grunting sound and turned her back.  Who does that?  Who is that hateful to anyone?

Bob’s brother has now moved to the Atlanta area – not too far away.  Bob (forget me!) was not invited to the family Thanksgiving nor Christmas celebration, and they did not respond to our invitation to our Christmas dinner.  I am married to the kindest, sweetest man in the world and he deserves better.  If they can’t tolerate me for family celebrations, at least invite my husband!  Bob has sent them very nice “how are you” emails but they don’t even bother to respond.  A few months after we moved into our new home they stopped by to check out it out.  Their only comment was, “I don’t see anything wrong with where you were living before.”  That was the last time we saw them, almost two years ago, and it was the last time we spoke to them.  They’ve moved and haven’t given Bob their new telephone number.

Bob has had four surgeries in the past three years.  Have they called or emailed to check on him?  No.  The brother writes to talk about how much money his neighbors have, and his sister writes about my mother-in-law, who is 99, but never an inquiry as to his health.  When he’s had surgery, my children have been at the hospital.  We treasure family.  We take care of our own.  Family first.  Families are forever.  This we believe.

We both look back at our 14 years together and they have been idyllic.  We’ve created a wonderful, very full life for ourselves.  If there is one thing I could change, it would be that we would all get along.  Bob has two children and I have three.  No one is uncomfortable when we are all together with my ex.  The past is in the past.  I’m happy my ex is happy and I think my ex is happy that I am happy.  All of this hatefulness just isn’t necessary.  And what kind of example are they setting for Bob’s children?  Or their own children, for that matter?

I can’t change anything so I decided to write.   Doesn’t that make everything feel better?

A Grandmother’s Grief

Nine years ago, our precious grandson, Glenn, was killed by a reckless driver who was speeding to get home and talking on his cell phone.  I sat at the hospital that night, listening to the sounds of the intensive Care Unit and smelling its unique smells, and I knew life would never be the same.  My daughter would lose her first child, the darling little boy who had charmed us from the day he was born.  I cannot imagine her grief and she cannot imagine mine.  She lost her firstborn and I lost my first grandson.  We were both fragile, but fragile in different ways.

I couldn’t fix this.  I was the mom who could fix everything, but not this.  I was powerless and felt as though I was in the midst of a tornado.  For months after, life just happened as I grieved.

Here we are, now, in December of 2014.  The worst imaginable has happened to a friend’s grandson, and that is why I’m writing.  This is for Toni, and for any other grandmother who is saying goodbye to the most wonderful gift your adult child could ever give.  Toni’s first grandson was shaken by the babysitter and was brain dead in the hospital.  If you’ve not experienced this, and hopefully you haven’t, there are different rules for withdrawing life support from a child.  Apnea tests must be performed, at specified intervals.  If you are planning for the child to be an organ donor, then there are other steps that must taken and processes that must be followed.

Toni’s telephone call to me brought back memories and pain, but it also has provided me an opportunity to share some words that just might be comforting, at least in some way.

First of all, treasure your memories.  You are not going to forget this child.  Little things will come back to you, sometimes at strange times, and embrace your reactions.  That’s all you can do.  You’re going to cry.  You’re going to talk about your grandchild and it is going to make people uncomfortable.  You’re going to want to run away to a place where you aren’t the dead baby’s grandmother.  But you still are.  Accept the fact that your memories are your own.  Your child will very likely not remember things the same way you do, and will likely not respond the way you do to his or her memories.  Own this.  Make a scrapbook, a photo album, or something to help you remember things, your way.  You are entitled to your memories, but also be cognizant of when things get out of control and you need to seek professional help.  Church was no help.  “He’s with Jesus” only made me angry.  Jesus didn’t need Glenn.  I did.

Let go of your need to control your adult child.  He or she has just lost a very precious child.  The funeral arrangements must be left to them.  This is their child and their responsibility.  The best thing you can do is stand back and let them do things their way.  Be available, but not intrusive.  Give your adult child room to grieve.  You can’t do this for them, and they will likely do things over the next year (or even two) that leave you confounded and frustrated.  This is a normal part of the grieving process. This is possibly the worst part.  You are grieving for your grandchild, but you are also going to grieve for your child.  Your child will never be the same.  Neither of you will never be the same.  Both of you will look at life differently.  Be patient with your adult child but do not expect them to be patient with you.  They have just lost their baby, and their grief is different from yours.

My daughter and I are 9 years from the event that changed our lives.  We’ve had some tough times and I did seek professional help. The doctor felt the best way for me to heal was with medication, and I won’t second guess the doctor although I do think it delayed my recovery by simply numbing my senses for awhile.  I couldn’t sleep and I was angry at everyone.  I would close my eyes and I would see Glenn, so fragile in the hospital bed, then the shell of Glenn in the casket.  I would smell the smells of the funeral home and relive the hours in intensive care.

Eventually I was able to sleep, unmedicated.  I am now able to remember Glenn and visit the cemetery without crying uncontrollably.   We tell our funny stories of Glenn, and we see glimpses of him in his siblings.  My daughter is happily married and has four additional children, none of whom remember him but all know about him.  Things are tenuous at times, but isn’t that common in all families?  She is now telling her story and has started a chapter of Bereaved Parents of America, here in Macon.  I’m so proud of her.

In the future, people will ask you about how many grandchildren you have.  How will you answer?  Do you include the baby who is no longer with you?  This is something you can only answer, and it may depend on the situation.  Sometimes I will say 10 and sometimes I will say 9.  It all depends on where I think the conversation will go.  Accept this discomfort.  Your grand baby will always be that perfect grandchild, in your heart.  Whether you share that memory with others is your own decision.

I hope this helps.  Just love your child, cherish your memories, and take care of yourself and your loved ones around you.  Own your emotions and reactions and allow your child to own their’s.  Never presume to be in more pain or to be suffering more.  Your child is an adult, and needs to be treated and respected as such.  Love them, and allow them to grieve.

Man shall not live on white bread alone…or something like that

We are two weeks into our exchange student experience, and so far, her diet is limited to white bread and brownies.  My husband is now baking brownies at least every other day, and she eats them all in the course of two days.  The only thing she eats that is healthy is seafood.

After a couple of days at school, she asked for a lunchbox.  We got a lunchbox for her and some various options for lunches.  What did she choose?  White bread!  We have a refrigerator full of lunch foods, as well as soups and a thermos, but she only eats white bread.

 I made beef stew one night, and she ate three bites of rice and left the table. Roasted chicken and rice was the same way.  We’ve had salmon, twice, and she ate very well.  She didn’t eat the shrimp I cooked, although she did eat the shrimp at Red Lobster.  She doesn’t eat vegetables, except for potatoes.  Each night, she has come down after we are in bed and eaten more bread and brownies.

I thought I could turn this into something humorous, but I’m too worried right now to make a joke.  Eating disorders are no laughing matter.  Her eating drastically changed after her younger brother told her she was fat.  Mind you, he is in China and she is here, so he can’t even see her.  This is when she stopped eating and she ordered a bathroom scale on Amazon.  

But, as Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day.  I have spoken with the liaison and we are looking for solutions.  I really am quite fond of this young lady, and I am worried about her.   I’d love some suggestions.

When will I ever learn! Adventures in hosting an exchange student

“Hey, Mom!  You should totally do this!” was the email I received from my daughter.  My response was a quick, “Okay, what is it?”

You would think that I would know better.  My daughter’s plan was for my husband and me to host an exchange student from China, who was going to the same school as our grandchildren.  Stratford Academy, an excellent school in Macon, Georgia, is really an amazing place.  Before I sent my email to the Admissions Director, I really should have stepped back and considered the fact that my youngest child is 27 and we are GRANDPARENTS!  This was a 15 year old girl!  How could I forget the hormones?

We’ve hosted exchange students, in the past.  Typically, these students have come with limited English language skills, despite years of studying English in their own country.  Did I forget the Japanese boy we hosted, who learned his English from Eddie Murphy movies?  Whose idea of an acceptable American greeting was an obscene gesture?  Who taught me all the Japanese words I know?  Words that should never be used in polite company?

So…what makes this experience so different?  First, we have no children at home.  We have various children who drop by on a regular basis (and we really love that!), and grandchildren who are also in and out on a fairly regular basis.  Our student has no one here her age.  Secondly, she is from a much more closed society than any of our previous students.  I asked her about Facebook, and she said it was forbidden.  I asked her about Google, and she said that was forbidden, also. Once I got on a rant about one of our “esteemed” politicians, and then I asked her if it was okay to criticize the government.  No!  Seriously?  I would implode!  It was bad enough when I gave up sarcasm for Lent!  What would I do while watching the Sunday news shows, if I couldn’t get worked up!

This promises to be an interesting year.  We’re making mistakes but we are learning tolerance.  We have a LOT of cultural barriers, and unlike the previous agencies I’ve worked with, this one did not offer any preparatory information.  Our student wasn’t really allowed to communicate via email, in advance, so we were basically all strangers when she arrived.

Thanks for reading and please come back!

Suzanne