Venting
Dear Mother-in-Law,
I've been spending a lot of time with you lately, and listening to a lot of what you say. And you certainly have a lot to say. So here's what I think of some of it, because I really need to get this off my chest.
I don't think you intend to be an awful person, but you really are at times. You're so set on what's yours and what isn't right now that it's almost insulting. I would expect most people to be TALKING to their son, the boy they spent 15 years or more raising, to share memories of the man you both loved. But you don't. You harp on what an awful child he was, harp on how scared you are of the future because you can't/don't trust him, harp on how awful he is to need money when you get back to California so that we don't lose our house.
Then again, you don't seem to have any memories with him. For a woman who theoretically raised a child, I haven't once heard of you helping him with homework. You never worked on a school project with him, or organized a birthday party, or even made silly little Christmas ornaments with him. When you were babysitting him before you married his dad, you would forget he was even there. I can't tell you how much that boggles my mind. No wonder he doesn't like you; no wonder there's no fond reminiscing. You wanted his dad, and that was all.
Granted, you stood up for him when his dad was mad. Granted, you made sure he had Christmas presents and birthday presents and never wanted for anything. You provided the security that a second income can, and a measure of sanity that another adult can. But you never really considered him part of your life, or part of your relationship with his dad. And sadly, his father spent so much time appeasing you that his dad wasn't part of the relationship anymore either. The only benefit you seem to have been is financial.
Your approach to your husband's death, and any part my Sweetie might have in the estate, reflects all of this. "You forget, that everything is mine. If I decided that you and my son don't get anything, you don't." I'm starting to believe that the only reason my Sweetie IS getting anything is because his Uncle witnessed his dad's last wishes for some of it, and you honestly don't want any reminders of your husband's first wife for the rest. Well, except her son. And you want him to worship you the way he did his dad. It doesn't matter that there's nothing worth extolling in you...he must fawn over you to prove that he loves you.
You can't even acknowledge his bitterness towards you, because you can't acknowledge that your "parenting" was lacking in any way. You think that he's still mad at you for the punishments you doled out (which I can't argue were deserved; some of his actions were utterly atrocious) or the privileges you withheld. You comment that whenever he stayed with friends or relatives, he was the perfect child...and it never dawned on you that it was because they acknowledged him as a person, and interacted with him as such. Maybe if you'd ever tried that, he wouldn't have done so many awful things to you.
Even now I can't explain any of this to you. I've tried, but you don't hear. You deny your faults, you blame everything on him. You may have "moved on", but you don't forgive. You're untrusting to the point of being rude, blunt beyond that point most times, and generally find the most offensive way to get information about somebody's thoughts/motivations. The few friends you have are all as critical and ungrateful as you, and still you don't recognize this in yourself.
All these flaws that you have, you put on him. You assign your own stubbornness to him; your own untrusting nature to him. You worry that he'll renege on things he's said he'll do, when I've watched you do it to him just in the few months I've been here. I will grant that neither of you have much reason to trust each other...but he's changed. You haven't. Of course, since you can't see your faults to begin with, you can't possibly see that they're still there where many of his aren't.
So now you're all alone. Your husband is dead, you're moving back to California to be with family that you admit you'll despise after only a few months; you have no prospects for employment, you've refused our offer of a place to live, and you're going to be broke once the money from the sale of this house is gone. You're alone, you're scared to death, and you want pity.
Somehow, I'm finding it hard to come by for you. I'm not sure if this is a character flaw in me; I only despise one other person more than you and he's in jail for the foreseeable future. I give you the appearance of pity you need. I let you ramble, I respond to your conversation, I'm making myself utterly miserable to help you. The truly ironic thing is that I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for my Sweetie.
I lay in bed most nights and think how much easier everything would be if I were dead. If YOU were dead. I think of the .45 sitting on the bookshelf, one of the few things we haven't packed, and know that even with two bullets for every living thing in this house, there's enough ammunition to do the job. I lay there in the dark for hours, afraid of what's lurking in the shadows in the room, in my head, awake and asleep at the same time. When I dream it's of being trapped, of being alone. Once in a while it's a dream of a new life with Sweetie, and I don't want to wake up on those days. But you always come pounding on the door, dragging me from the scattered moments that I'm happy.
But you don't know any of this, and you probably never will. I'll outlive you, I'll be happy in ways you're probably incapable of understanding or realizing. When you die, if you keep your word, Sweetie will have everything of his father that you're denying him now. He'll have your life in his possession, and it will have no more value to him than he ever had to you. This is the justice that life brings 'round; this is the victory I have over you for all the suffering you bring me now. You will reap what you have sown, and never understand why it's so bitter.
I hope some day you'll face something that makes you grow beyond where you are. Sweetie needed a catalyst, so did I; I don't have much hope that you'll know it if it comes though. Take your shallow faith, take your victim mindset and hypochondria. Take your petty anger and grudges and narrow world view and live. It will bring you all you deserve.
Sincerely,
Your Daughter-in-Law
I've been spending a lot of time with you lately, and listening to a lot of what you say. And you certainly have a lot to say. So here's what I think of some of it, because I really need to get this off my chest.
I don't think you intend to be an awful person, but you really are at times. You're so set on what's yours and what isn't right now that it's almost insulting. I would expect most people to be TALKING to their son, the boy they spent 15 years or more raising, to share memories of the man you both loved. But you don't. You harp on what an awful child he was, harp on how scared you are of the future because you can't/don't trust him, harp on how awful he is to need money when you get back to California so that we don't lose our house.
Then again, you don't seem to have any memories with him. For a woman who theoretically raised a child, I haven't once heard of you helping him with homework. You never worked on a school project with him, or organized a birthday party, or even made silly little Christmas ornaments with him. When you were babysitting him before you married his dad, you would forget he was even there. I can't tell you how much that boggles my mind. No wonder he doesn't like you; no wonder there's no fond reminiscing. You wanted his dad, and that was all.
Granted, you stood up for him when his dad was mad. Granted, you made sure he had Christmas presents and birthday presents and never wanted for anything. You provided the security that a second income can, and a measure of sanity that another adult can. But you never really considered him part of your life, or part of your relationship with his dad. And sadly, his father spent so much time appeasing you that his dad wasn't part of the relationship anymore either. The only benefit you seem to have been is financial.
Your approach to your husband's death, and any part my Sweetie might have in the estate, reflects all of this. "You forget, that everything is mine. If I decided that you and my son don't get anything, you don't." I'm starting to believe that the only reason my Sweetie IS getting anything is because his Uncle witnessed his dad's last wishes for some of it, and you honestly don't want any reminders of your husband's first wife for the rest. Well, except her son. And you want him to worship you the way he did his dad. It doesn't matter that there's nothing worth extolling in you...he must fawn over you to prove that he loves you.
You can't even acknowledge his bitterness towards you, because you can't acknowledge that your "parenting" was lacking in any way. You think that he's still mad at you for the punishments you doled out (which I can't argue were deserved; some of his actions were utterly atrocious) or the privileges you withheld. You comment that whenever he stayed with friends or relatives, he was the perfect child...and it never dawned on you that it was because they acknowledged him as a person, and interacted with him as such. Maybe if you'd ever tried that, he wouldn't have done so many awful things to you.
Even now I can't explain any of this to you. I've tried, but you don't hear. You deny your faults, you blame everything on him. You may have "moved on", but you don't forgive. You're untrusting to the point of being rude, blunt beyond that point most times, and generally find the most offensive way to get information about somebody's thoughts/motivations. The few friends you have are all as critical and ungrateful as you, and still you don't recognize this in yourself.
All these flaws that you have, you put on him. You assign your own stubbornness to him; your own untrusting nature to him. You worry that he'll renege on things he's said he'll do, when I've watched you do it to him just in the few months I've been here. I will grant that neither of you have much reason to trust each other...but he's changed. You haven't. Of course, since you can't see your faults to begin with, you can't possibly see that they're still there where many of his aren't.
So now you're all alone. Your husband is dead, you're moving back to California to be with family that you admit you'll despise after only a few months; you have no prospects for employment, you've refused our offer of a place to live, and you're going to be broke once the money from the sale of this house is gone. You're alone, you're scared to death, and you want pity.
Somehow, I'm finding it hard to come by for you. I'm not sure if this is a character flaw in me; I only despise one other person more than you and he's in jail for the foreseeable future. I give you the appearance of pity you need. I let you ramble, I respond to your conversation, I'm making myself utterly miserable to help you. The truly ironic thing is that I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for my Sweetie.
I lay in bed most nights and think how much easier everything would be if I were dead. If YOU were dead. I think of the .45 sitting on the bookshelf, one of the few things we haven't packed, and know that even with two bullets for every living thing in this house, there's enough ammunition to do the job. I lay there in the dark for hours, afraid of what's lurking in the shadows in the room, in my head, awake and asleep at the same time. When I dream it's of being trapped, of being alone. Once in a while it's a dream of a new life with Sweetie, and I don't want to wake up on those days. But you always come pounding on the door, dragging me from the scattered moments that I'm happy.
But you don't know any of this, and you probably never will. I'll outlive you, I'll be happy in ways you're probably incapable of understanding or realizing. When you die, if you keep your word, Sweetie will have everything of his father that you're denying him now. He'll have your life in his possession, and it will have no more value to him than he ever had to you. This is the justice that life brings 'round; this is the victory I have over you for all the suffering you bring me now. You will reap what you have sown, and never understand why it's so bitter.
I hope some day you'll face something that makes you grow beyond where you are. Sweetie needed a catalyst, so did I; I don't have much hope that you'll know it if it comes though. Take your shallow faith, take your victim mindset and hypochondria. Take your petty anger and grudges and narrow world view and live. It will bring you all you deserve.
Sincerely,
Your Daughter-in-Law