Dear Diary,
Mum, I understand everything, but could you have given me a headsup earlier? Id already arranged a slot with the salon and theyd set aside a chair for me! Because of you Im letting them down. You cant be a grandma only when it suits you. Either youre a proper grandma all the time or youre not one at all.
Katie, I cant just up and quit and drive back now, I tried to explain. I wont make it in time I trailed off, searching for an excuse.
And what am I supposed to do? Ive booked a haircut and paid a deposit. They wont refund me if I dont show up! Katies complaints sounded as if Id personally tied her to a radiator and barred her from the salon. In truth, from my point of view the mess was her own making. Shed become so accustomed to everyone swooping in at the snap of her fingers. Katie truly believed the world should bend around her, being a young mother of two.
Just find someone else to help, or cancel the appointment, I said, trying to stay calm. Im powerless here.
Katie stared at the wall, her mind racing. Ill try to reschedule for tomorrow or the next day. Will you have time to get back? I wanted to say yes, but something held me backperhaps the last shreds of pride still lodged deep inside.
No, Katie. Ill be back on Tuesday, five days from now.
Five days? Its only a threehour drive from here! she snapped.
True, but Ive promised my girls I wont ditch them, I replied.
And you can ditch your grandchildren, cant you? Katie snapped, her voice sharp. Your daughters would have devoured a barbecue without you, but I get it. Its a matter of priorities. Some old ladies are more important than family, huh? Mum, if youre not needed, you wont see us again. Sorry for the bother.
The call tone buzzed. My heart sank. I knew my daughters tone was harsh, but Katie was my only child and the thought of losing her terrified me. I was ready to abandon my seaside cottage and rush back to London just to avoid a fight.
Id raised Katie alone. When she was eight, her father vanished, and I tried to fill the void with gifts, attention, endless love. That overindulgence became her downfall.
I started to notice something was off when Katie moved in with her boyfriend. What once might have been teenage whims now involved an adulta man who never seemed to click with anyone.
Ian, Katies husband, was quiet, steady, and never caused a scene. He worked at a service centre fixing appliances and earned a decent wage. Katie, meanwhile, was a stayathome mum. When she became pregnant the money ran thin and arguments erupted.
Hes gone mad! Katie wailed, rummaging through her suitcase. He says he wont be home at night. Hes taken a nightshift as a security guard, apparently. Hes off gallivanting with some older woman.
Katie hes not like that. You wanted him to earn more, didnt you? Hes trying to make it work, I tried to soothe her.
I did, but I meant a day job! A proper husband should be home at night, beside his wife, she snapped. Theres time for sidejobs after the main shift, on weekends. I cant live with a man who roams around after dark.
Their quarrels became routine. The next day Ian would appear with a plush toy or a bouquet, Katie would yell at him for spending the familys cash on trinkets, then forgive him and return. A week or two later the cycle repeated.
One evening I had had enough of being the third wheel in this love triangle. When Katie arrived again with a suitcase, I finally shut the door.
Great, so youve decided you dont care about me. You dont mind your daughter sleeping out on the street, do you? she shouted from the hallway.
I felt embarrassed in front of the neighbours, frightened for my daughter, yet after that Katie never left Ian again.
When our first grandson arrived, Katies moods grew stranger, blaming hormones and postnatal blues. She would leave the baby with one of the grandmothers without asking, just demanding it as a fact.
Mum, look after him for a day or Ill snap. I cant stand his cries any longer. I need to get a manicure, she snapped, irritated.
Back then Katie could at least swallow a refusal. Shed grumble, feel hurt, but the next day shed call as if nothing had happened, never threatening to cut off contact with her grandchildren.
The trouble, I suspect, lay with the motherinlaw. When I couldnt look after the little one, Katie turned to Linda, her motherinlaw. Their relationship was, to put it mildly, strained.
Lindas got on my nerves. Shes always telling Ian, Dont forget you have a home, Katie would mimic in a shrill tone. Shes hinting that shes waiting for him. She probably dreams that well split and hell crawl back under her skirt.
When the boy turned four, Linda moved to another town. By then Katie already had two kids, and the panic set in. Without the grandmothers she couldnt cope.
The easy solution was obvious: Katie shifted the entire burden onto me, and stopped allowing any no when she needed a favour.
I love my grandchildren, truly. Yet I still have a life of my own. Im not retired yet, and I enjoy evenings out with my friends. Some of them are single, others have been through divorce and arent keen on new romances.
But Katie never accepts anyone elses wishes, problems, or desires.
Mum, could you look after Max and Sam? Ill drop them at your place in an hour, she would say, no if its convenient, no please. Just a statement of fact. Luckily I work from home, so sometimes I could rearrange, but not always. When I couldnt, Katie resorted to guilttripping.
Right, of course. Your life is more important than family, shed huff. Well bother you no more.
After that she fell silentno calls, no messages. I knew she was in the wrong, yet the anxiety of losing the family kept me from staying silent. Id make the first move to reconcile: take a sick day, cancel my night out, hand over theatre tickets.
That was the patternuntil now.
A few days ago I arrived at the holiday resort in Cornwall with two friends. It was my vacation, a chance to unwind. I didnt warn Katie; I feared her reaction and hoped no crisis would erupt in the week.
Wrong. Katie urgently needed help because shed booked a haircut and, of course, wouldnt discuss her plans with me. She genuinely believed I should drop everything and rush over. I knew I simply couldnt make it physically, not to mention the extra travel costs. Id already settled into relaxation. Why should I become a trained lapdog?
I felt hurt but tried to keep my composure, to distract myself, to return to my holiday. In vain.
Whats got you so sour? asked Marina, one of my friends, as she threaded meat onto skewers. Anything happen?
I told her everything: the call, the ultimatum, the fear of a looming silence or something worse. Im tired of fearing Ill lose both you and the grandkids.
My own kids arent perfect either, but at least they behave decently, said Elena, the other friend. Honestly, Id have given them the cold shoulder myself by now.
Would that help? I asked. Theyd stop talking to me. Who benefits?
Exactly you, Marina retorted. Who else will Katie turn to if not you? Her motherinlaw is miles away, the grandchildrens fathers are unreliable. Shell crawl back to you, and youll finally see its not just about you.
We chatted for half an hour, weighing the options. I realised the friends were right. The motherinlaw had left, there was no contact with Ians side of the family, I couldnt afford a nanny. I was the only reliable safety net, and I was fed up with the ultimatums.
The next two weeks were a nervewracking blur. I kept checking my phone, but there was radio silence from Katie. I was on the brink of giving up, ready to make the first move, when one morning the phone finally rang.
Mum, hi. Sams got a cold, could you look after him? Katie said as if it were the most ordinary request. Id take a day off, but were swamped and they wont let me leave. Can you manage?
This was a new kind of ask. Usually she never bothered with my schedule.
I could have taken a day off and dropped everything, but then I thought: what if I fall ill and need that day off? Who would cover for me? It seemed unlikely.
Katie, Im really sorry, but Im buried in work too. You know how it is. Id love to help, love, but if youd given me a headsup yesterday I paused, bracing for an explosion that never came.
Well, who could have guessed Sams temperature would spike, she replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. Mum, could you at least watch them this weekend? Please. Ill try to juggle with my boss and spread the workload.
She wasnt being unreasonable. She responded calmly, proposing a compromise. I saw that as a small step forward and decided to meet her halfway.
I can do the weekend. I have no plans yet, I said.
Great, Ill keep that in mind. Thank you, she replied.
The conversation wasnt perfect, but for once we negotiated without pressure or sacrifice.
Since then Katie has started asking whether its convenient for me to watch the grandchildren and actually thanks me for the help. Sometimes she brings tea and my favourite biscuits. Occasionally she slips back into demanding mode, but now its softened by affection rather than blackmail. Ive also stopped bending over backwards every time she leans on me; if I feel squeezed, I simply say no. Help should be given freely, not forced, and the one asking should be the one who truly needs it.
So here I am, still at the resort, still figuring out the balance between my own life and the endless calls for assistance. Its a learning curve, but at least were finally talking without the usual fireworks.
