I was sixteen when I lost my maternal grandparents, by brother was only five. I was very close to them. I would have done anything for them. I miss them in my life, and wish that I could have known them as an adult, wish they could have seen my brother and the amazing adult he has grown into, I wish they could have met my children and my husband.
This weekend my parents took my took my two kids for the weekend. Took them out-of-town to do their shopping and then back home and to a play. They do it every year. It usually provides my husband and I a much need break before the holidays to get our shopping and wrapping done and some time alone before all the chaos of the upcoming weeks.
This is the last time it will happen. My mom and my daughter, well, they butt heads. A lot. Neither of them understands the other one, and they are equally stubborn. It is a bad combination. And it didn’t go well this weekend. I can’t say that I am surprised, but I am disappointed. But this time was the final straw. It will be the last time that my Mom offers to take my daughter with out us present.
This makes me sad.
It makes me sad that neither of them can put aside their differences for 48 hours. I makes me sad that I carry the burden of this conflict on my shoulders. It makes me sad that neither of them seem to see how it affects the others around them. We all have people we don’t like in our lives and lots of them might be family, and we deal with it, we are polite and civilized.
I lost my grandparents when I was my daughter’s age. This truly makes me sad.