Longing for Grace

Recently, we allowed Brendan to meet Jason's parents for the first time. We did so with great reluctance. Unfortunately, our relationship with them has never been warm, and quite frankly, they did not support the idea of us adopting. Even before me, it was not a typical parent-son relationship--as far as I can tell, it has been strained since before Jason's birth. I am not a psychologist--I don't even play one on TV--but since Jason was not planned, I have long suspected that there is some blame involved. I have spent 15 years trying to understand it. I have also spent 11 years trying to mold them into the grandparents I dreamed my children would have.

In my mind, grandmas are warm, loving and completely huggable--the most wonderful people in the world. When you are grown, they're the people you fondly remember spending time with at Christmas, birthdays and special afternoons. They are pillars of your childhood. Like any parent, I desperately want this for my children, but it is not shaping up to be reality.

They don't "spoil" the children--they spend the little time they have with them fussing at them for wearing flip-flops (impractical shoes) and using product in their hair (umm, because I have spent years teaching them how to care for the beautiful hair they were blessed with). They make them feel awkward and uncomfortable. They don't take the time to get to know what each of them loves, and I am not convinced they care. I am pretty sure I am the only one keeping a relationship alive. For years I tried, but even the desire to try has faded over years of coolness. I have made every piece of handprint art imaginable. I wrote letters from the children, sent drawings, invited them on vacations, opened my home and my heart, but I failed to create this relationship I longed to give my children--and my husband.

This most recent visit I truly hoped to survive with more laughter than tears. I wanted them to meet Brendan and see how amazing he is--I wanted them to adore him, gush over him and leave completely transformed. At times I can be a hopeless optimist--they have never done this with Aidan and Cole Patrick, why would Bren be different? It is always me, who when they leave says, "Never again," and it is always me who says after a few months, "Let's try again; maybe this time will be different."

At the end of this visit, I actually confronted them, including my husband, in a parking lot. "In 15 years, I have never heard the three of you say 'I love you' to each other. I will not raise our children to believe that this is how family acts--it is not!" Jason's Dad told me that was not true, and that I was scaring the children. It is true though--I have never heard it expressed--or seen it expressed--which breaks my heart. I made them uncomfortable expressing myself opening--I think I always have. I am not passive aggressive or quiet. I have never really been popular, so I have never worried about what other people thought of my views. I always try to be true to me and my family--if we are happy we sing and dance, if we are sad we cry, if we are frustrated we shout--we are an open book. My children are not scared by that, but the older they grow, the more the are disappointed and hurt by how Grandma and Grandpa treat them--just as Jason and I are.

This time when they left, I cried for a whole day (because I am always a mess when they leave), and I asked Jason to never let me do it again. Knowing I will cave and say, "Let's try it again," I made him promise he would save me from myself--perhaps I should have videotaped the train wreck to remind myself.

As we come into the holidays, I think about the reason we celebrate: the birth of Christ. Like many Christians, each day, I struggle to live like Jesus taught us. I fall--sometimes a lot. I think that I should make this relationship work for the sake of peace and Christianity. I still long for the grace and wisdom to come to terms with reality, but in the same way, I am relieved to finally realize they really aren't going to change. While it hurts to walk away from any one, I have seen time and again that when they are around, every one hurts. At the end of the day, I know my children will face disappointment throughout their lives, but I cannot bare to see my children unappreciated by family. They are growing old enough to realize, and now is the time for me to protect them and have the grace to give up my idea of the perfect grandparents.