PenPenWrites

parenting blog, memoir notes, family punchlines & more

© Penelope Lemov and Parenting Grown Children, 2025. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    In his 75th year–and 50th year of marriage–a retired, New England professor ran off to California to live with a woman he'd been wooing for a year. It reminded me of a 30 Rock episode where Tina Fey's character Liz Lemon is stunned when her dad comes to New York City without her mom. He's planning to meet an old school chum and "have a little fun." Only this grandpa runaway is real life. And it's not  "a little fun." The New England academic has left behind not only a wife, but two grown children and five grandchildren–in effect, divorcing himself from his three-generation family.

    The shock and abandonment are hard enough for his wife to deal with. But there is something else adding to her anguish: The grown children are shutting their father out of their lives. They will not open his emails or talk to him on the phone. When her husband left, the wife says, "the thing that really upset me was that my kids were not going to let their kids see their grandfather. I didn’t see how that followed."

    And it hurt. "Grandparents and family relations are important and you try to keep them up as best you can," she says. She knows her grandchildren are confused. Her daughter's 8-year-old wonders, "do all old people just disappear?" And her son's 5-year-old stunned her parents one night by announcing, "You're ruining my life. I'm going to California to live with Pop-Pop." So far, it's been a year since the Pop-Pop has seen his grandchildren.

    The grown children are feeling the impact of their father's actions in many ways. They are angry at him on behalf of their mother but also out of their own sense of abandonment. They may be grown up with families of their own, but a father is a father is father. And that leads to another issue: They have been reassessing who they thought their father was and is. The daughter told her mother that it wasn’t just the leaving but the self-centeredness of it. When she finally opened a letter he wrote her, the letter, she told her mother, "made it clear that it was all about him."

    The betrayal runs deep. Nonetheless, the mother argues with her grown children. She believes they should let their father see their children. "A year," she says, "is such a long time in a child's life."

    She has, she says "tried to make it clear to my children that they should not keep the grandkids from him.  I don’t want things to fall apart because he has hurt me. It's not a good thing he did, but there are other things to salvage."

    The children are having none of it. When their mother argues the point with them, she gets "told where to get off on that. They tell me they’re not going to do what I want them to do."

    A few months ago, a friend gave her some advice that she admits she is listening to: "At some point, you need to step back and let them find their own way."

    In this as in many things.  

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    It was a cry from the heart. A loving son–someones grown child–was upset by his father's behavior at his mother-in-laws Thanksgiving dinner last year. In a question to the New York Times' Social Q's, he complained that his father, who had wrangled an invitation to the feast (he had no place else to go), "dominated the entire dinner conversation with stories about himself." He'd prefer the father not attend this year, but how to make that happen?

    That was the question he posed but there's the obverse side to it. Is he–and his peers–talking about us? We don't have to be an invitation-wrangler to be on our worst self-centered behavior. We can even be hosting the Thanksgiving dinner and be overbearing. Age may have its prerogatives but letting the evening be all about us is a dangerous place to go–as this son's query suggests. We may do it because we feel a bit ignored or are rebelling against the reality that we are no longer center stage or have the starring role in the family. The Social Q's answer to the upset son might as well be a reminder to all of us who may feel we have the right to impose ourselves as the master/mistress of the evening. 

    What Philip Galanes, the author of the column, wrote was a suggestion to the son that rather than trying to exclude dear old dad, he try talking to him along these lines: "Can you do me a favor, Dad? Susie’s family isn’t as gregarious as you. Let’s ask lots of question, to draw them out.”

    Always worth remembering. As are these lines that I posted from a poem in this blog. Here's the pertinent excerpt:

    "An abundance of opinions will generate heat/but accomplish nothing./You no longer have to comment/on each and every little thing./You can observe events with a detached serenity./When you speak,/your words are gentle, helpful, and few./Your silence is as beautiful as the Harvest moon.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    When our grown children come home for a visit, we juggle many things–from what to cook [who likes what?] to where will they sleep [who gets the guest room, who the blowup bed on the floor of the TV room?]. If more than one grown child is coming home for a holiday or family celebration, remembrance of sibling rivalries past may flit through our heads–and remind us to tiptoe carefully around those minefields.

    I recently came across a blog by Cynthia Samuels that gives her take on the highs and lows of such visitations. You can read it here. One of her points is this: "When your kids grow up there’s not a lot you can do for them besides feed them and not pressure them to be around when they can’t."

    She also has this advice: "…one of the two [of her sons] is married and that makes temperate, respectful exchanges even more important. The worst thing in the world is to have to choose between parent and spouse. I work hardest to keep that from ever happening, not only about when they come and how long they stay but also about whether we serve beef (nope) or schedule a lot of activity (also nope)."

    In other words, those visits are not all about us.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    It happened so quickly. One day Barbara's grown son and his live-in girlfriend were sparring and snapping at eachother, and the next, she was gone. She moved back to the small town where her parents lived–taking her seven-year-old daughter, Chrissie, with her.

    And it's Chrissie that has been weighing on Barbara. Chrissie is not her grandchild–she's the child of the girlfriend and the girlfriend's former husband. But during the four years her son and the young mother were a couple, Barbara grew attached Chrissie. She'd been thrilled to introduce her to the Nutcracker ballet and to take her to Disneyland. Since her son lived several hours away, Barbara had set up a nook in her house filled with stuffed animals, children's books and toys for those times when the couple came to visit.

    When the mother moved out and away, Chrissie was gone from Barbara's life–without so much as a goodbye or an explanation of why Barbara and her husband were no longer going to be around for her. "We just disappeared from her life," Barbara says. "Poof, and we were gone."

    Unlike grandparents who are linked into the custody rights of their child when there is a divorce, Barbara had no standing to see Chrissie. One day this summer, Barbara realized Chrissie's 7th birthday was a few days away. She called her son to ask if it was okay if she sent a birthday card. And this was the unpleasant dose of reality for Barbara. He was emphatic in asking her not to. Chrissie's mother was harrassing him with nasty phone calls. A card from Barbara would only inflame matters.

    Barbara understands. She knows the relationship between her son and Chrissie's mother had become an unhealthy one and that he had to move on. And yet she feels a loss. It's hard to let go of those powerful feelings for a small child. "Friends warn you, don't get attached to your child's girlfriend or boyfriend," she says. Fine advice, but how do you not? And why is that attachment so different from one that would take place if the couple were married. Breakups are breakups–whether they are official [a divorce] or unofficial [moving out]. Breaking up is hard to do–and it's equally hard on the parents of the disillusioned couple. With no blood ties, you don't get to say goodbye–even to a seven-year-old.

     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    My dentist was and wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. Her back has been bothering her and the idea of making a huge Thanksgiving dinner–family tradition calls for everything to be home made–was tiring in itself. And she knew she would get little to no help from her son and his wife, who come for the lavish meal and stay on for an overnight visit–with their four small children.

    Whew. I'm tired just thinking of all that work. She has to get all those beds ready, stock the fridge not only for Thanksgiving dinner but for meals the next day. Her son occasionally helps a little with clean up but her daughter in law, she says, considers the trip to "grandma's" house a vacation.

    "I understand that," says my dentist. "She's got four small children and she's home schooling them. She offers to bring something but I don't feel i can ask." What my dentist would really like is not an extra pumpkin bread but to be able to keep her seat when the meal is done and have her grown children pitch in to clean up.

    How do we ask for what we need? Are we afraid of asking too much from our adult children? Or are we so used to doing everything ourselves that, comes the day when that gets difficult to do [the back hurts; so does the wrist], we don't know how to turn things over to others?

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    A grown-up brother and adult sister have quarreled. The rift had to do with the responsbilities they had to each other–and a misreading of exactly what those were. They ended up not talking to each other, and it has gone on for months now–despite another brother's attempt to be peacemaker. "They both ended up angry at him," says the mom of that failed effort.

    The father is unworried about the tiff. His theory: Time will heal the wounds. They won't stay mad at each other forever.

    The mother is not so sure. She sees the rift growing worse each day–the brother and sister now refuse to be in the same room as each other. The daughter, who is currently living at home, made one gesture at reconciliation. It was rebuffed, and that has refueled her anger.

    Now the holidays are rolling around. Thanksgiving is a dinner the mother has always made and, in recent, years, it's been one of a few special times each year when everyone–the daughter, the two married brothers, their wives and their children–get together. The daughter has let her mother know that she will absent herself if the brother with whom she is quarreling is at the Thanksgiving dinner.

    What's a mom to do? She could invite everyone: throw the chips up in the air and hope for the best. But she knows that will not work. She is sick at heart and disturbed by a wrenching choice: Invite the son or the daughter.

    She has swallowed hard and made an executive decision: The quarreling son will not be invited. Her reasoning: He'll be taken care of on Thanksgiving Day. He has his wife's family to be with. The pain of the family separation will be all hers.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    The week long visit is over. Alpha daughter has left, returning to husband and child and their home in Germany. We'll go see her in a few months, and she'll be moving back to this country this summer. Meanwhile, we have Skype and email to stay connected. And yet, we are teary-eyed to see her go.

    Paterfamilias is in touch with his feelings on this one. The visit, he says, is bittersweet. Having her come home without husband and child [what he refers to non-pejoratively as her 'adult baggage'] triggers the vibrations of the child-rearing years. We are long past that phase of parenting, but for the past week we have "relived" those vibes. We were able to re-connect with our daughter as an individual, rather than as part of her own growing family. She is here for a conference, and we get to hear about the people she's met, the papers that have been presented, where her work fits into the scheme of things. We learn subtleties about where she is in her career, what she's working on, what plans she has for the future. We have uninterrupted conversations we are not able to have when her young family is around.

    Now she is leaving, and that brings the bittersweet to a head. "We want to see her blossoming, to see her career taking off," PF tells me, trying to reassure both of us. "We bring our children up to fly away. When they come back for a visit and then go off, we feel that separation all over again."

    I recall other partings, times when I would visit her when she lived three time zones away on the other coast. Her child–one of my precious Grands–was a baby; she and h er husband were struggling to get their careers going; their day-to-day life seemed overwhelming. At the end of the visit, I would sit in the back of the taxi taking me to the airport and sob, wishing I could stay there to help her but knowing it was not my job anymore.

    I tell PF, there's a reason for the expression, Parting is such sweet sorrow.

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    A little while ago, I blogged about a friend whose college-age daughter needed a summer job. He gave her one. One of her chores was to put the family financials into a software program. Not only did this get a time-consuming job off his hands, but it also served as a Baedeker for his daughter: Now she knows what her self-employed parents earn, what savings they have, where their investments are–in short, how they handle their money. And that has come back not to bite them but to provide a bonus.

    The dad reports that, since he and his wife are in business together, they have a corporate American Express credit card, and having a corporate card means they can get extra cards. So when his children went off to college, they gave them Amex corporate cards to use in an emergency. "When they called home and needed something, the easiest thing to say was, use the American Express card," the dad says. "But that meant that when we had to figure out our taxes, we had to go through the Amex statement and subtract out the charges they had made." The latter was part of what his daughter did this summer. So when she called the other day in need of money for a legitimate online purchase, the dad told her, as he usually did, to use the Amex card.  "But she didn't want to do it," he says. "She told me it makes a mess of the financial books. She asked for another card number."

    She has, this dad concludes, "become the guardian of our trusts." That's a pretty good result from sharing the details of your financial data with your grown-up children.

     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    Paterfamilias and I were exchanging smiles of contentment. "It feels so nice," PF says to me, "just to have her in the house again."

    Alpha daughter has come home for a week–to attend a two-day conference and do some research. Her first day home is devoted to recovering from jet lag–she's been living in Germany for the year– and preparing her presentation for a conference panel. PF and I work on our own projects, but there is time for a quick lunch together, an afternoon cup of tea, and dinner. What a treat. Without her family in tow, we are able to enjoy the one-on-one fullness of her presence. Our conversations take a different direction than when husband and child are present. Not necessarily better–but more familial and more direct. No doubt about it, it is a treat to have our daughter to ourselves, even if it's only a few days.

    A few hours will do it as well. Last Spring, Uber son was in town unexpectedly–another panel at another conference (thanks be for panels)–and we were able to squeeze in dinner together before his flight home. There we were, talking about family, who was doing what and conversing one-on-one–no interruptions from anyone but the waiter.

    These moments of togetherness are not exactly a step back in time–our children are grown up with families, careers and big-time responsibilities, and that's some of what we talk about. We love our grandchildren and our children's spouses. But these visits are a fleeting and precious moment in time when we don't have to share our children with anyone. 

     

  • PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

    When grandparents visit their grandchildren–whether it's for a day or weekend–the line on discipline is clear: The parents are in charge. Grammie and Grumps keep their mouths shut. If it's not a safety issue, it goes directly to the parents. And when grandchildren stay with you while their parents vacation, the line is also clear: Grammie and Grumps Rule.

    But when the grandkid and your grown child visit you in your house for an extended period–or move in for economic or family reasons–where does the line of discipline land? After all, they're living in your house for more than an overnight. You have certain rules (no bathroom noises at the table, no bouncing balls in the living room) and if the parent is distracted or out doing whatever it is they came to your house to do [go to a conference; find a new job] are you the Disciplinarian In Residence?. Do you want to be?

    It's a tricky issue. If your grown child is there for an extended period of time–say a few months–then it makes sense to sit down and clarify the disciplinary issues–what the rules are; who's the enforcer. But if it's only for a week or two, is a meeting and clarification necessary? And who knows in advance what issues are going to come up? If a child doesn't want to go to school or camp in the morning, whose job is it to work that out? It's not an easy call since the issue tends to rise like a sudden thunderstorm, and there's no time to coordinate responses–just time to run for cover.