...of many parts, as The Wedding is two years away, preceded one month by The Harvard Graduation.
This part is called The Engagement Party. It began innocently enough, with me initially (pre-engagement) suggesting a trip to the distant land of Urbana, which sounds like a trip to a 50's episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. Then the promised engagement happened, and my daughter began to plan an engagement party, and coordinated it with my visit so I could meet her friends. Not that I'm insecure, but I was more tickled by the proof that she wanted me there than that she was having an engagement party.
Of course, her dad, who visits his family in Chicago in July and August, would be safely settled back in Virginia in September, so I was looking forward to a weekend with the girl with only the minimal social anxieties of whether her best friends would like me or only tolerate me on her account.
Next came word that Dad had offered $100 to help pay for liquor costs, even though he wouldn't be there. She appreciated the sentiment as much as the money.
Then I received an email from her saying that her dad was considering delaying his trip home by a month so that he could be at The Engagement Party.
Not for nothing, but I had just been through two weeks of this man during my son's brief visit home where the only sound in the house seemed to be Dad expounding on any and all subjects: physics, history, politics, music, sounding very much like Charlie Brown's teacher and having very much the same somnolent effect on me. There was only one temper tantrum, in public where they have the most impact, and very brief, because I walked away from it.
To be brutally honest albeit melodramatic, the visit broke my heart. I have such short times with my kids now that they're grown, and to have to share the whole visit with a man who, especially when in parent mode, tends to suck all the air right out of the room, is emotionally exhausting.
So the thought of sharing this rare visit with my daughter with the other parent caused my brain to implode, and I immediately emailed the man and told him, nicely, that if he went, I would change my visit to later in the month, and then emailed my daughter to let her know and to assure her that this would be far better than having to host The Battle of the Parents on the weekend of her engagement party. Afterwards, I realized that I had just lost the Qualifying Round, given that my husband cannot be manipulated, as he has absolutely no ability to feel guilt.
Additionally, I, who have enough guilt for both of us, was worried that now my daughter would be angry at me, the innocent victim. So I emailed her again, and told her that I was just trying to do the right thing, and not ruin her party, and maybe we should talk.
Which we did, a day later, giving her time to organize her thoughts, talk to her dad, and deal with me in the kind of grown-up manner that left me awed.
Basically, she sees The Engagement Party as a dry run for The Wedding, as far as how the relatives will behave. Further, she is trying to establish some ground rules for Future Family Gatherings, and For Children.
Being engaged has temporarily it appears brought out the Pollyanna in my daughter. Living my life under the cynical Boy Scout motto Be Prepared, I described some more down-to-earth expectations . I explained that the secret to her dad and me getting along is lots of distance, and very few mutual get togethers with our children. We don't share well with others, and we especially don't share our children well. I believe I am the better behaved, if only because I am able to shut up long enough to listen to my children, while his idea of a good time is allowing his children and anyone else fortunate enough to be around to listen to him.
And he gets away with it every time because it is unconscious. Therefore, and especially apparent after 73 years, the behavior is unalterable. We have been in every conceivable convolution of therapy during our marriage, and the pattern remains the same, except that I have learned to walk away from the tantrums and not hold a grudge. The expounding still leaves me drained and withdrawn, and no means I have used to attempt to deal with it works. I am either ignored or I piss off my children, I leave the room and feel sad, or I interrupt and believe everyone hates me for interrupting.
So as I talked to my incredibly mature daughter about this tangle, I believe she understood that we are never going to be able to do the parent thing together for longer than short bursts; same for the grandparent thing. Give me some time without the man and I'll be okay around him, but don't throw us into the same room with you guys for the same amount of time, because I will feel defeated and jealous from his first words all the way through to his last, throughout which he will only stop long enough to go outside to take a few puffs off his cigar.
She was great. She sympathized, empathized and even told me that I could let her know if he was having that effect on me during the party and she would help. I told her thanks, but that really wasn't her job. She even expressed the desire to throw us into a room together and instruct us to work it out. I told her that if that could work it would have worked a long time ago. And actually, in fact, in a room alone together we get along pretty well.
It's really the Dueling Parents thing. And the only way to fix it is to let it happen as little as possible.
Sorry, darlin', I love you very much, but two single parents involved in your life is always going to be far better than a pair of parents. I promise you I will always try to behave, but I learned a long time ago that I have no control over the man who claims he still has no idea how he affects me, and that after all these years, and all the distance, he still is able to push my buttons, and it very nearly always is around you guys.
To share your optimism for a moment, though, I want to add that we will be fine at the Engagement Party, and the Wedding. And I would like to thank you for being the grown-up in the room.
