The relationship of women with their mother in law when they become mothers it can become very complicated; so complicated that there can be great differences related to the way of raising or caring for the children, advice that the mother did not ask for, behaviors that can be considered as impersonation (when the mother-in-law gets in the way too much), etc.
Something like that is what happened to Tina Plantamura, who after a very eroded relationship with his mother-in-law, and after his death, decided to write in Asbury Park Press an exciting letter of apology which titled: "To my mother-in-law: I was wrong, and it's too late".
A few days after the publication was published translated in The Huffington Post, where we have rescued her to know and understand how this mother changed her mind when she saw that her children did not miss her for everything she bought or consented to them, but for who was.
To my mother in law: I was wrong, and it's too late
You always stole prominence. You gave them everything they wanted. You never told them no to nothing.Double serving of dessert. Baubles before dinner. A few more minutes in the bathtub. Ice cream money.
What I had to fight to show you respect and affection while trying not to pamper my children. I thought you would make them selfish brats by giving them everything they wanted. I thought they would never learn to wait, to ask for their turn or to share, because you always granted them their wishes as soon as they opened their mouths.
You took them to fall asleep and had a good time in your arms. Didn't you understand that they had to learn to sleep alone?
You ran towards them as soon as they emitted the minimum sound. How would they learn to calm themselves down?
I held a grudge for buying them the best and most expensive gifts for their birthdays and Christmas. How could I compete with you? How do you think I felt knowing that the best gifts - with which my children were excited - did not come from their parents?
And besides, they loved spending evenings with you. You prepared their favorite dinner, three different meals for three different children. You always kept them a little surprise. A gift, a candy or a special toy. I didn't want to be associated with gifts and candy. I thought they should love you for who you were. I tried to tell you, but you didn't listen to me. You kept consenting to them in every possible way.
I spent a lot of time wondering why you did all that and how I could convince you to loosen the pace. I know that grandmothers usually spoil children and then send them home, but I thought yours was ... ridiculous.
Until you left.
I had to take my children and tell them that their grandmother had died. It didn't seem possible. You were supposed to be there at all the key moments: graduations, weddings ... But no, they lost their grandmother too soon and too suddenly. They weren't prepared to say goodbye.
During those years when I wanted you to stop pampering them, I never thought about how much you loved them. So much that you showed it in any way possible. The kitchen. Gifts. The sweets. Your presence. The way you remembered every detail and every moment, whether it was a perfect move in a baseball game or a slightly out of tune note in a school concert. Your grandmother's love for them had no limits. Your heart gave off love for all places: your kitchen, your pocket, your words and your tireless arms.
It makes no sense to live in regret, but I often think of how wrong I was. I was wrong in my perception of your generosity. My children, now teenagers, miss you a lot. But they don't miss your gifts or your money. They miss you. They miss running to your door to greet you and hug you before entering. They miss looking at the stands and seeing you, one of their biggest fans, smiling and enthralled to not miss anything. They miss talking to you and hearing words of wisdom, encouragement and love.
If I could talk to you one more time, I would tell you that every time a beautiful moment steals my heart, every time I see them reach a new milestone and every time they surprise me for their perseverance, talent or for their triumphs, I think of you . And I think I wish they had you back.
Back to give them your love one last time, as no one but your grandmother can give it to you. With your candies and surprises. To give them gifts for their small achievements. To carefully prepare your favorite foods. To take them where they want. Plain and simple because you love them.
I wish you could come back. I wish it with all my heart.
And that you sat for hours with me in the stands. That you return and observe his determined attitude, his efforts and his rituals when he is nervous. We could study my son's face and we would both know without a doubt if he is confident, intimidated, thirsty or bored.
Come back and hear him play the saxophone and see his face with me. We both know what your favorite songs are just by watching your eyes when you play. That you see how he removes himself in his seat, maintains eye contact with his friends and sighs with relief at the end of each song.
That you come back and hear his grave tone in the institute's choir. May you delight in his voice, his soul and his heart when singing. His bright green eyes of passion, closed with tenderness on the longest notes.
I would look at you and know that nobody loves him as much as you or me.
Come back and see him with a cap and gown. May you see how the wind takes your hair away from your face and that you marvel at me as you glimpse the man you are becoming. That you stay by my side, without a word, amazed at how quickly the years have passed.
The more I think you should go back, the more I realize that, in a way, you never left.
Now I understand. Now I know you loved them as you could and knew. Now I understand that being your grandmother gave you joys and goals. Of course, I know you can't come back, but I know that your love for them always remains. Your love formed them and protected them in an indescribable way. Your love constitutes a large part of who they are today and who they will become. For this, for all the whims and gifts and for all the times you took them and comforted them (too much) or that you let them stay up late, I will always be grateful.
And I will always regret that you cannot do it again.
Maybe I spoil the moment ... I'm sorry if so, but I can only say one thing: I understand each of the words of Tina Plantamura and in reality I don't think I was so wrong. It is a lawful feeling of a mother to feel in some way violated by a person who, loving her children very much, spoiled them in a way that was excessive for her.
To explain a little what I mean: when we went to my parents' house with my children, my father did with them the same thing he did with us as children, which is shout at them and hit them when they did something that bothered him, to educate them. Logically, he did it from the love for them, but I had to ask him not to do it, that we were coming to his house to have a good time with him and the grandmother, that I was in charge of educating them, that please, will be dedicated to enjoy their grandchildren. I did not want to be seen as the grumpy grandfather.
Had she been, Tina, I would have done the same, if I had felt that way. I would have told her that she was exceeding herself, that it was too much, that she did not doubt love but that she as a mother wanted to do it differently with her children, and that there was no point in making an effort to teach them the value of things so that she later made them believe that everything was within reach of a whim.
But she died and they showed how much they loved her, and that was when she saw how much love there was in every decision of her. Would you have thought the same without such loss? Would you have personally apologized over time?
Photos | Mark Doliner, Asbury Park Press
In Babies and more | 15 times when you wish you didn't have a mother-in-law after having a child, When grandparents get in the way too much, do you visit annoying? No, thanks: the baby needs calm
