So, it happened again at the second Seder.
My FIL recited a list of names of people who helped, and my name wasn’t on the list, because I wasn’t allowed to help. I don’t think he even thought that it might have been hurtful to me, because all I have ever wanted to do was be included and help. It was OK. I held it together. I really tried to be gracious. I thanked my MIL and told her it was a beautiful party (a baldfaced lie).
Her schoolmarm side was in full effect last night. We arrived 15 minutes late, but one noticed, because my nephew Ethan had switched around all the place cards. He was a little precocious on the first night, so on the second night they placed him between his mom and another mom, so when no one was looking he rearranged all the place cards and all hell was breaking loose as we arrived 15 minutes late. I had taken a half a gummie so it was extra entertaining when she was up in Ethan’s face, pointing her finger in his face and looking stern. I was #TeamEthan all the way.
It hurt when my name wasn’t mentioned, because I wasn’t invited to help. I tried to act nice in that moment, but I did down half my glass of wine, and I wish I’d acted like I didn’t care. I’ll do better next time, with God’s help. It’s a process. When Ethan and a friend got all tickled at dinner, I laughed with them. Grams was losing her mind. She was not happy and did not find it funny, but the crowd was laughing and I was laughing loudest of all. She HATED it. It’s like she senses joy and can’t stand it when anyone is having too much fun. She was all over all the kids, shutting down fun at every turn. She just sat there looking miserable the whole time.
All I can really do is laugh at her. It’s sad that she hates joy. I just don’t know what she hates me so much. What did I do, to deserve this? I was telling AM tonight, as I was trying to figure it out, that whoever she dates or marries, I am going to love, accept, and treat with kindness. The only way that changes is if someone is emotionally or physically abusive, or cheats on her.
So…what is her problem? I love her son. He loves me. I gave her these grandchildren. I try my best to give them a good home, and it’s not always perfect or exactly how she would do things, but I do my best. I have never cheated on her son. We have a good relationship. I’m not mean to him and I don’t emotionally manipulate him , or my kids, or anyone. I gave the Jewish thing a go, and it didn’t work, but as far as she knows I’m still part of things. So…what did I do to deserve this blatant hatred? Every other 70-year-old grandma LOVES me. I meet all these grandmas at the lacrosse games. They’re all nice, and I don’t know why I didn’t get one of those as my MIL. I know the grass is always greener and many MILs do things to annoy their daughters-in-law. My MIL doesn’t even see my humanity. She doesn’t see the good in me and she doesn’t even try to.
She came to the LAX game tonight and I said hi, thanked her for coming, and then stayed far away. That’s my strategy: be gracious, say thank you, show up when I have to, don’t interact unless I absolutely have to, and try to laugh and be joyful when I have to interact. Because she hates my joyful spirit most of all.
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