They know, but you still cannot.
I took the internet's advice and gave my parents the bad news before Christmas. Actually, it wasn't a rational decision to let them cope before I arrived; I had become anxious to the point where I could no longer function as a normal human being. I felt that if I didn't tell them, I was going to explode from the pressure of holding in such a massive amount of hot air. (That's one of those metaphors that you should just read and not try to dissect.)
The Monday before Christmas, I called my mom and gaged her mood for a few minutes until I finally broke out this clever, diplomatic phrase: "What's the worst thing I could possibly tell you?"
Brilliant, Kate. Way to make Mt. Everest out of the Appalachians.
She responded, "That you're not coming home for Christmas."
"Really?" I said and tried to decide if her shortsightedness was a good thing.
After this, she reconsidered and began listing terrible things, some of which included: losing my job, quitting my job, getting a divorce, and having a terminal illness. "Well, which is it?" she asked.
I didn't answer. Somehow she decided that I had lost my job and began probing the whys and hows. But this wasn't it, and so I kept quiet, which did nothing to calm her nerves as she now considered that her youngest child might be homeless or dying.
When Leon began listening in some minutes later, she sounded angry and nearly hysterical. He calmed her down and told her that everything was fine, really. He told me, "Don't make her guess."
And I told her. And I cried and cried and cried, the most satisfying, freeing tears of my life. She told me that she was shocked but that she loves me and wants me to be happy. The following day, I had an email from her that was filled with wonderful, encouraging words and lots of smiley faces.
Unfortunately, my dad overheard the conversation and he wasn't as easygoing as my mom. He was somewhere between devastated and angry. And, although he treated me normally while I was home for Christmas, he left for work the day of my flight out of Quincy without saying goodbye (we drove by his work on the way to the airport and made him hug me anyway). He was very rude and condescending to me on the phone last night, as well, but that may not have had anything to do with me.
Still, I'd say they're both taking it well, in their own special ways.
The Monday before Christmas, I called my mom and gaged her mood for a few minutes until I finally broke out this clever, diplomatic phrase: "What's the worst thing I could possibly tell you?"
Brilliant, Kate. Way to make Mt. Everest out of the Appalachians.
She responded, "That you're not coming home for Christmas."
"Really?" I said and tried to decide if her shortsightedness was a good thing.
After this, she reconsidered and began listing terrible things, some of which included: losing my job, quitting my job, getting a divorce, and having a terminal illness. "Well, which is it?" she asked.
I didn't answer. Somehow she decided that I had lost my job and began probing the whys and hows. But this wasn't it, and so I kept quiet, which did nothing to calm her nerves as she now considered that her youngest child might be homeless or dying.
When Leon began listening in some minutes later, she sounded angry and nearly hysterical. He calmed her down and told her that everything was fine, really. He told me, "Don't make her guess."
And I told her. And I cried and cried and cried, the most satisfying, freeing tears of my life. She told me that she was shocked but that she loves me and wants me to be happy. The following day, I had an email from her that was filled with wonderful, encouraging words and lots of smiley faces.
Unfortunately, my dad overheard the conversation and he wasn't as easygoing as my mom. He was somewhere between devastated and angry. And, although he treated me normally while I was home for Christmas, he left for work the day of my flight out of Quincy without saying goodbye (we drove by his work on the way to the airport and made him hug me anyway). He was very rude and condescending to me on the phone last night, as well, but that may not have had anything to do with me.
Still, I'd say they're both taking it well, in their own special ways.