Acceptance

Today, I wanna quote 2 extracts from a particular book. I had actually already blogged them down some time back in some private postings, but I really hope to share what I have learnt with people who care to read my blog :)

From the book, THE ART OF getting along with People by Cecil G. Osborne, D.D:

Gertrude, the youngest of six children, and at thirty-nine still unmarried, had chosen to take care of her aging mother. The other sons and daughters were married and had children of their own, so it seemed the logical thing for her to do. But at forty-one Gertrude decided to marry, Mother, now in poor health and quite elderly, felt threatened by the turn of events. She began to complain of vague but persistent ailments.

Gertrude appealed to her brothers and sisters, asking if they would mind taking mother for at least a few months. They replied with various excuses: they were short of rooms; there were financial problems; Gertrude had no children as yet and was best able to take care for mother. The discussion went on for weeks, in person and by mail. Gertrude’s brothers and sisters presented a united front: it was her responsibility because she was the youngest and had no children.

Gertrude buried her resentment and went on with the wedding plans. Mother refused to attend the wedding, insisting that she was not feeling well. Two sisters attended the wedding, chiefly because they had been asked to be bridesmaids. Relationships were strained.

Gertrude, her mother, and her new husband, Jack, settled down together in a small house, and for a time mother made a fairly valiant effort to be civil. But within a month, she grew critical and began retiring to her room immediately after dinner. She also ate her other meals in her room. Jack began to feel uncomfortable, and Gertrude was becoming depressed from trying to bury her anger.

Jack eventually suggested gently that she call a family conference to see what could be done. Four of her brothers and sisters, and their spouses, elected not to attend. Gertrude then announced that she intended to put her mother in a retirement home.

There was instant recrimination from everyone: “How can you do this to our mother? She’d die in a month in one of those places. After all she’s done for you! Of course, we can’t take her, for reasons you clearly understand; but you, with no children, surely ought to be able to take care of her until the end. . . ” and on and on and on.

Gertrude began to feel guilt on top of her buried anger. Increasingly depressed, she sought counseling.

After hearing the story, the counselor asked, “What are your options?” She could think of none. He pointed out several.

She could let the situation remain as it was and live in her depressed state. Under those circumstances, there was always the possibility that her husband might lose interest and leave her.

Or she could try to reason with her brothers and sisters. “No, that’s out,” she explained. “They’re hopeless. I want nothing to do with them.”

The third alternative was putting her mother in a retirement home. “But they’ll all hate me,” objected Gertrude.

“Do they love you now?”

“They say they do but –”

“But what?”

“They don’t act like it.”

”What do you want: peace of mind and a viable solution, or to hang on to the illusion that your brothers and sisters really care about you?”

The session lasted for another half-hour. Gertrude finally elected to put her mother in a retirement home.

When her mother heard the news, she protested that she wasn’t going. Brothers and sisters and their mates protested that she couldn’t do this to their mother. But Gertrude was adamant.

Mother was put in a retirement home. In a few months, she was feeling much better, running the recreation program and giving devotionals for the women’s Bible class with sufficient energy left over to make life fairly miserable for the staff. When told that she would have to stop stirring things up with her gossip and complaints or leave, she became quite tractable and began to enjoy her new life.

Gertrude and Jack still have impaired relations with her brothers and sisters. But she has learned that it is their problem. She came to see that their resentment stemmed chiefly from their own guilt.

There may never be a happy solution for these impaired relationships. Gertrude treats her siblings politely, refuses to argue, and sends Christmas cards annually. She says, “You can pick your friends, but you inherit your relatives. The door is open if they ever want to make gestures of reconciliation. If they do, it would be wonderful. If not, it isn’t fatal. I am happy in my marriage, and life is good.”

It would be nice if there could always be a happy ending to every story, as in the books and movies. But life isn’t like that. Sometimes there is no perfect solution , and we have to do the best we can and be satisfied with that.

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When Rational Judgment Is Difficult

Sometimes a person can become so beaten down as to be incapable of making a rational decision.

A young mother whose husband had died reported to me that her husband’s parents had been verbally abusive to her children. The mother was planning to take the children to another state, where she had the promise of a job. Fearful of losing touch with her grandchildren, the grandmother said to one of them, “If you move there, you’ll be dead in six months.” The little boy was terrified and asked, “Mommy, is that true? Will I die?”

There were many other instances of emotional instability on the part of both grandparents. The mother, accordingly, told them that they could not visit her children so long as they were verbally threatening or abusive.

I said, “Under the circumstances you have stated, you were quite within your rights.”

She said, “Oh, thank you! Everyone I’ve talked to has insisted that I am morally bound to let the children visit their grandparents.”

Advice from friends, relatives, and neighbors can confuse an otherwise intelligent person so that he or she loses the capacity for rational judgment.

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Only love interests me, and I am only in contact with things that revolve around love. ~ Marc Chagall