I Learned A LOT From My In-Laws

I credit my in-laws for opening my eyes to the oddities of my parents. My in-laws were entirely different from what I knew parents to be. They were actually interested in the lives of their children. That's not said with sarcasm, just awe. It was amazing, odd, strange and entirely unfamiliar to sit at their kitchen table and listen to my mother-in-law ask about my spouse's childhood friends. She knew their names, their parents' names, where they lived, their interests, even their personalities. And she cared. It blew me away. It was like I'd been transported to an alternate reality.

My spouse would call my in-laws when something special happened. Job changes, promotions, a new project or a new car -- they cared about these things. They'd smile and listen. They'd take pictures. Things going on in my spouse's life was important to them. All this was so foreign.

My in-laws even cared about me. They always gave me thoughtful birthday presents. They treated me like a member of the family even before we were engaged. It took my mother nearly two years after we married to remember my spouse's name. We dated for four years before marrying. After nearly twenty years, she still can't remember when my spouse's birthday is. She doesn't have it written down anywhere. She doesn't know her two grandchildren's birthdays either.

I'm sad that I only recently gained the knowledge to understand the precious gift they gave me in showing me what loving parents are like. I wish I had understood earlier so I could have thanked them.

Family Visit: Two Days and Counting

Yes, that's right, a family visit, more precisely in-laws visiting. Eight of them. My mother-in-law kept the family together and now that she's dead, I'm impressed that we all haven't gone our separate ways and completely lost track of one another.

When it comes to *my* family...well, I don't exactly keep track, or even in touch, with them. I like it that way. Family, my family, brings to mind demands of obligation and responsibility. It means sacrificing whatever I have and/or want and do whatever is demanded of me. It means accepting that I don't matter. Given that I have challenges feeling like I matter, family gatherings have a big impact on me.

Family visits with my in-laws aren't like that. Like most people, each of them has their quirks, and we'd drive each other crazy if we spent a lot of time together. I do need time-off during the visit, but everyone seems to be OK with my quirk.

As a kid, I wished to live closer to our extended families. I idealized what it would be like to have big family gatherings around birthdays and holidays. When I've talked to my cousins about it, they say they enjoyed. Yet, when I think of family gatherings, there was a certain tension there. I don't have any idea what it's all about, but it was certainly there. It's interesting to note that my family rarely gets together anymore, even on Thanksgiving or Christmas.

To Grandmother's House We Go

Narcissistic grandparents. That's an oxymoron, right? I wish.

The first time my mother watched my children was a month after my father died. My father hated children so even had she wanted to watch them, it simply wasn't a possibility. They were 2 and 4 years old. She actually offered to watch them. It was only for a few hours while I went out to dinner. On returning I find out that she allowed them to watch a movie I specifically told her I didn't want them to see. She explained that they saw the video case so she *had* to let them see it. Not wanting to make a scene in front of my children, I mumbled an "uh-huh" and said my good-byes. Of course, she couldn't let it go at that. She followed us outside and made a big show of telling the children that I was unhappy with Grammy because she had let them watch the movie. It was the perfect end of me ever leaving the children with her.

My father, on the other hand, didn't bother to put on the allusion that he was their grandfather. He talked to the children only when reminded to say goodbye. He picked each child up once on the prompting of someone else. He made absolutely no attempt to have anything resembling a relationship with them. They were of no value to him. They only served to take the attention away from him or to annoy him by making noise. He literally sulked in a corner when we combined the celebration of one child's birthday with his.

Whenever I hear a grandparent lovingly describe spending time with their grandchild I can't keep my eyes dry. A few Sunday's ago, our pastor talked about a grandchild due not long in the future. He spoke of loving the baby, of holding the precious baby in his arms and getting to know the child, of watching the child grow and develop. What a wonderful gift for a child to have. I can't help but feel sad that my children don't have that same blessing.

Books Trolling

It was a stroll through a bookstore that brought me to the idea that my parents were narcissistic. A friend clued me into the fact that my parents were different. He used the word "self absorbed" to describe them. Undoubtedly that's why the book Children of the Self-Absorbed by Nina Brown caught my eye. Reading it was the beginning of truly believing there was a problem.

Before that I was puzzled by the view I had of friends' families. My closest friend's parents were entirely unlike mine. They made special arrangements to celebrate my birthday and get me a present, even while my own parents didn't even bother to contact me at all. They remembered and asked about things that happened in their children's lives. They even extended that honor to me.

As an adult, my parents would go six to eight months without even as much as a phone call. Then, all of a suddenly, it was like they remembered they had a kid and they HAD to see me and tell me all about what was going on with them. This didn't include listening to what was going on with me. Then, after they had told me about their wonderful life, another six to eight months would pass before the next call -- unless, of course, they needed help or something big and inportant happened to them.

According to my parents, our family was ahead of the curve. We were what families should be. The explanation seemed perfectly reasonable to my child mind. It even made sense to my adult mind until I was in my 30's!

It's a sad fact that children tend to believe their family and circumstances are the norm. It took years for me to put together the pieces after watching friends interact with their parents. Before that, it never occured to me that things I took for granted as being normal were anything but. I still occasionally come across something I assume to be normal that isn't. Such eye-opening realizations add valuable pieces to my life puzzle.