This is a picture of my father taking advice from me. I need LazyLo's sarcasm font right now.
Tomorrow, my 10 year old son and I fly to Pittsburgh to spend time with my parents and my almost 40 year old brother who lives with them and will never. ever. ever. move out. The baby of the family gets treated like a prized gem of rare provenance and the eldest (moi) is treated like a commodity in a declining industry.
I am bringing my son so that he can spend time with his grandparents. He did not visit in 2009, attending a chess camp in lieu of attending the every other year (biannual? semiannual? quasiregular? SAT exam question?) of my family reunion. He is family, goddamnit, and besides his other grandparents are dead. Not to put too fine a point on it.
The problem and what I am already anticipating, which is not making the actuality any easier, is my parents' reception. They are in their ways and I can't expect to change them. But I am disappointed in what I perceive (not qualifier, almost diplomatic approach) to be their nominal, de minimus (frustrated lawyer. And father is a lawyer now a judge so I figure there is some pertinence. Though dictum might be more apt.) effort to address the fact that there is a grandson in the house. We - my son and I - must move in the current of the household; there is no adjustment.
My father will attend to his interests and his work and will not budge from his routine. My mother will have her appointments and her routines and will not sway. My brother lives a shadow existence of my parents and thus will haunt and reverberate - another reminder of what seems to be the inexorable way to live in my parents house. The only communal time will be cocktail hour, followed by dinner. But the conversation topics will be within a certain scope and the discussions will follow plotted arcs. The end of the meal will be followed by ritualistic cleaning of the kitchen, the surgical stacking of the dishwasher, running of the dishwasher and my parents turning in for the night. My brother will likely want to talk further on the first night of our visit, but the following nights will hasten to his room under the guise of a schedule that cannot permit change.
The metaproblem with all of this is my soreness at my parents' inability to recognize who I am. And my sadness that my attempt to have my son spend time with them may not result in them knowing him. But he may know them. I just don't want him to take it personally. Them being family. Therein lies the rub.
I am bringing my son so that he can spend time with his grandparents. He did not visit in 2009, attending a chess camp in lieu of attending the every other year (biannual? semiannual? quasiregular? SAT exam question?) of my family reunion. He is family, goddamnit, and besides his other grandparents are dead. Not to put too fine a point on it.
The problem and what I am already anticipating, which is not making the actuality any easier, is my parents' reception. They are in their ways and I can't expect to change them. But I am disappointed in what I perceive (not qualifier, almost diplomatic approach) to be their nominal, de minimus (frustrated lawyer. And father is a lawyer now a judge so I figure there is some pertinence. Though dictum might be more apt.) effort to address the fact that there is a grandson in the house. We - my son and I - must move in the current of the household; there is no adjustment.
My father will attend to his interests and his work and will not budge from his routine. My mother will have her appointments and her routines and will not sway. My brother lives a shadow existence of my parents and thus will haunt and reverberate - another reminder of what seems to be the inexorable way to live in my parents house. The only communal time will be cocktail hour, followed by dinner. But the conversation topics will be within a certain scope and the discussions will follow plotted arcs. The end of the meal will be followed by ritualistic cleaning of the kitchen, the surgical stacking of the dishwasher, running of the dishwasher and my parents turning in for the night. My brother will likely want to talk further on the first night of our visit, but the following nights will hasten to his room under the guise of a schedule that cannot permit change.
The metaproblem with all of this is my soreness at my parents' inability to recognize who I am. And my sadness that my attempt to have my son spend time with them may not result in them knowing him. But he may know them. I just don't want him to take it personally. Them being family. Therein lies the rub.
m, i like that pic of you and your dad. you look cute and he looks young. please tell me why your brother lives at home? i am being serious. I hope my son does not live with me when he is 40. he is very spoiled.
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ReplyDeleteOh yes - the catch 22 of home and family! I've experienced it many-a-time myself!
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