Mother suggested that Grandfather usually had something in mind with his gifts besides just the thing.
Well I did. The Dear Girl has creative talent; both in writing and drawing. The idea was to give her something for inspiration. But, no, she wasn’t having it. Not a child anymore. [But, still childish!]
Maybe that gift will play in the “long game”. Perhaps someday, years from now, this brat will be preparing a children’s book of her own and the light will go on, and she’ll recall those two “kids’ books”.
The story gets better. We asked to have those two gift books back. Bold move, I know. On purpose. Not gonna let it stand that even though a gift is not welcomed, a communication over that is still quite in order. I have complete acceptance for any lack of acceptance. But, just getting ghosted, not on my watch.
Quite the uproar from Mom and Dad. A lesson in couth for Granddad ensued. What, if anything, was learned by little girl and the parents, it's not at all clear. Mostly it seems to be, what you do when we don't like it, then it's your fault. So much for being responsible for your own experience. At the risk of being further politically incorrect, the term “Indian Giver” is what we would have called it ... in the day, that is.
The outrage was so righteously catastrophic that all communication has been terminated. Except for the reliable Christmas food basket where sending it to Grandpa took no more thought than to lift a finger to check a box from some online store. And, for the happy face family greeting card, also sent from a list.
Quite the conundrum receiving gifts from your flesh and blood who otherwise might as well live in another walled off universe. Gifts of that sort in my book are mostly in the category of making the sender feel good about themselves for making even so slight an effort.
This year, we’re sending a special gift. But, nothing in a box. "Respect." Nothing ... but respect. When people in your life shun you, give them their space to be whatever it’s called when folks shut you out of their lives crapped out from whatever ferkakta ideas about what’s what about you they have going on in their heads.
Back story. Turns out that transaction revealed the hidden agenda. The elephant in the room. “The fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.” The parents had long before for reasons they hold close to their hearts had decided they want nada from Gramps. Nothing. No wonder the kid is like that. Must’ve picked up on the vibe.
Unbelievable, so little respect that a gift could be rejected out of hand for the most casual reason. Worse, that Grandfather didn’t even deserve even a perfunctory patronizing thank you; or, better — mirabile dictu — a call to inquire about WTF. Nada. Zip. Zilch. One wonders how it serves creativity to be short on inquiry, much less interest.
Also an insight into the child-parent relationship. Gone seem to be the days when "Because I said so" was enough for a kid to do as told. Now, seems, the kid needs to be convinced with several points of reasoning.
Once when mine were very young, the older announces at the dinner table, "I don't like it!" The second younger one chimes in same. Me: "Who said you had to like it". Never had a problem over food since.
I’ve been told that I’m not fit to be a Father. You think? If that is the prevailing frame, then no wonder Granddaughter don't wanna have much, if anything, to do with the Old Man. Kids read the room, even when words are not spoken.
As Father and Grandfather, my task is to respect the situation, and let it be. As it ever was, it's in God's hands. Still saddens though.*
*I live under the rule that I am responsible for my reactions to people, situations, and things. The praise and blame world is for losers. Sad, I can't teach that to my closed off offsprings.
So I'm asked to leave to God His own Creations. Amen.
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