We’re cool, kids
I was sent a link to an intensely irritating article. It was by an old man complaining that his kids don’t email or call him enough, so he decided to test them.
Eleven weeks ago, I made a decision that felt both petty and necessary. I stopped being the one who always called first. No more Sunday morning check-ins, no more “just thinking of you” texts, no more being the family communication hub. I simply stopped reaching out to my three adult children and waited to see how long it would take them to notice.
The silence that followed taught me more about modern family dynamics than any parenting book ever could.
Then he’s annoyed about how long it took them to respond, and wasn’t sufficiently appeased when they did respond, and argues that all the previous communications were shallow and insincere.
Grow up, Grandpa.
I have three grown kids who are living their own busy lives.
My oldest has a stable job in a law firm and recently got a raise, but more importantly has a new girlfriend and a solid circle of friends. He’s probably the most sociable of my kids.
My second son is a major in the army, stationed in Korea, with a wife and child. He’s extremely busy and in a position of responsibility.
My daughter is working in academia…already I sympathize and know what she’s going through. She also has a young daughter.
I don’t want any of them to feel guilt for living their own lives, and they don’t need to call me. I’m just proud that they’ve grown up to be good people I can respect. I’m content. I think their mother and me, to a lesser extent, have succeeded at life.
My life is less interesting than theirs, and I also don’t need to call them and talk about my latest adventures (oh yeah, I fell down and concussed myself, not exactly entertaining news). I’m fine to occasionally learning that they’re happy. If they need help they can count on us.
But please, our reward is to know that they’re living well. That’s enough that we can pat ourselves on the back and tell ourselves that we did well, and that is immensely satisfying. We don’t need constant reassurance.
(oh yeah, I fell down and concussed myself, not exactly entertaining news)
Dunno but reckon that might actually that’s something they’d probly want to know – not for entertainment value but becoz they might then want to help or at least know and be aware of because theycare about you and that is a pretty serious thing.
@ ^ Huh. Blockquotes should’ve worked ..
What if they are not?
I tend to talk to my parents daily. I get back from work and give them a brief call for a few minutes to let them know I’m okay (they worry terribly about me. Quite unnecessarily given how dull my life is, but I live on my own, so I get the concern), then we catch up over skype (well, Teams now, which is worse) for an hour at 9pm while I cook and eat dinner. We’ll do a couple of daily quizzes, sometimes a crossword, then get on with the evening. On Sundays we play board games remotely for a couple of hours, usually with my brother. Then I’ll usually come home when it’s not term time. It’s nice, and since they’re about the only people who still talk to me it keeps me from feeling as lonely as I otherwise might. I don’t know what I’ll do when they’re no longer around.
But, of course, everyone is different.
I used to contact my father (or he, me)…quarterly, I suppose, until he died. I saw many other people in my peer group interacting with their parents weekly (sometimes even daily) well through their adulthood – it made me feel that I was somehow in the wrong, inattentive, a bad kid. But you know what? I made my peace with it, it quieted my qualms, when I realized that it’s the way he raised me – to be self sufficient, to stand on my own. If there was any fault in our situation (and I don’t think there was) it was a fault that we had created together. Neither of us had – to my knowledge – any issues with our interaction/lack thereof. He was there for me, and I for him, should anything have been needed.
I, on the other hand , have felt quite guilty for calling my mother so infrequently when I moved out of state in 1970. When she died in 1987 I felt so very guilty about depriving her of a the phone calls. I still do.
My now 18yo son in Australia is not calling me, ever. I hope he’s doing well. I think it’s good when family talks at least occasionally, so you can at least tell they’re doing ok.
I was pretty bad about calling my parents in the first years of my independence. OTOH, we did visit (five hour drive) every few months, and they’d always come up for Christmas. Still, I regret not cultivating a closer relationship, and it’s now 20+ years too late. By contrast, my wife talks with her mom (closing in 90yo!) almost every day.
We’ve had lots of contact with Son 2, since he’s lived with us for almost eight years now ;-) (But he & partner have bought a house! We’re about to get back two bedrooms and umpteen cubic meters of storage! And it’s in town, so I expect there will be regular family dinners and game nights.) We exchange DMs with Son 1 whenever something interesting comes up on someone’s radar, or when someone needs advice (which goes both ways). So the relationships seem solid.
I would have needed Ouija board even when my father was alive. Admittedly I went no contact when I was 13, but he was a ghost that haunted our house till mum kicked him out. He wasn’t interested in sharing feelings or sending quality time with me and my brother. The only thing he ever made an effort for was the pub.