I just got off another Zoom call with Debbie. We didn't end with "I love you" this time -- I think we are both consciously backing away from that -- but she's having a tough time.
On the one hand she's still taking care of her mother, which is as difficult as ever. Tonight her mom got confused over what medicines she was supposed to be taking, and the whole discussion was very hard before she finally let it go and went to bed.
On the other hand this week she flew back to the state where she lives now, and where her daughter and son-in-law live with their two baby boys. And that trip too was very difficult. She visited briefly with her daughter's family, besides taking care of a couple things on her own side that had to be attended to. And she says her daughter's family is under huge amounts of stress. I didn't ask where the stress is coming from, but I can guess: Daughter is a university professor; Son-in-Law has a job now, which must alleviate some financial stresses but also means he is away from the house more; and the children are both very young. (I forget their exact ages, but the younger one is still breast-feeding some of the time, and the older one can't be more than two or three.) This is a situation that has stress written all over it in big red marker. I don't have to know any more details than the ones I've listed to see that. And my sense is that Daughter is something of a perfectionist, which (if true) will only make things more difficult.
Debbie says she remembers being really stressed when her daughter was a baby, but she took it all out on her husband. But she sees Daughter yelling at her older son instead, and it troubles her deeply. She tells me that she didn't want to criticize, and that she knows children are remarkably resilient. But it troubles her.
So I tried to remember what it was like when Son 1 and Son 2 were both little. I was working, at least until they were six and four respectively. (That's when I lost my job and was unemployed for 21 months.) Before Son 2 was born Wife was working as well. But she was diagnosed with lupus and went out on disability when the boys were four and two, or thereabouts. Before that, when she was still working, the boys spent the days at daycare and just came home for dinner and bed; after that she was home with them, sometimes with the support of a nanny. (We hired a few people over the years to help her out.) It was tough -- some days it was really tough -- but I think when we yelled it was at each other and not at the boys. Also when Wife lost it and started yelling at the boys, I tried to act as a buffer. (I think of stories like this one, though they were a few years older by then … more like ten and eight.)
Or maybe my memory is trying to make life easy for me. I do remember noticing once that the boys had formulated comparatives for the sake of emphasis: specifically "as sad as Mommy" and "as mad as Daddy." I do remember that there was a time when they were very young that I identified anger as my most signal and particular sin, one that I felt overwhelmed by while I could distance myself from pride or even lust. Maybe I was a lot worse than I let myself remember. God knows, it's possible.
All I could tell Debbie is that these things are very tough. She agreed. I wish I could have offered a hug, but even the chance to talk is something.
Very tough.
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