When I met my husband, he’d been separated for a year. They’d fallen out of love many years prior - separate bedrooms, separate vacations.
His son was a young adult living with his mother when they finally parted.
He’s now on his own, has regular phone and text contact with his father, but they rarely get together.
He spends all his spare time with his girlfriend and her family, occasionally sees his mother and stepfather.
He and his girlfriend don’t accept our invitations to visit. My husband will occasionally meet him at a restaurant.
At Christmas, they “didn’t have time” to visit us, yet spent Christmas Eve and Day with the others.
My husband never criticizes. He makes excuses for and accommodates him. He dropped off our gifts for them both.
I say little, but feel badly for my husband, and wonder if his son doesn’t accept me.
My husband helped him through school, and getting settled in a career, yet he doesn’t appear loving, respectful, and appreciative. He’s been rude to us, with a seeming chip on his shoulder.
Should I assume the problem has more to do with them than me? How should I support my husband without overstepping my bounds?
No Step-monster
Your description presents a young man who grew up resentful of the “silent separation” and unloving environment long before his parents split. He could easily have felt lonely and rejected by his father – identifying with his mother, even if it wasn’t entirely fair.
It has little to do with you, except for his not understanding that his father could be happy now when he wasn’t when in the family home.
Your husband’s over-compensating now, by indulging his son’s rudeness. But he knows it.
Continue to say little. Criticizing his son, or calling him out on his guilt reaction, will only create a rift between you two.
My close friend died while I was travelling overseas to see family – a rare visit to grandkids.
But I feel guilty about missing her funeral. She’d been in a terrible car crash while vacationing far away and was in a coma there.
We’d been close since we were young pen pals living in different cities, then stayed in each other’s homes, later introduced our kids, and visited together.
I met her friends, and her extended family.
I feel so badly about having missed the funeral, and can’t shake the sadness I felt since the day I heard about the accident.
I must’ve needed the catharsis of weeping together with all who felt the same way, all of us trying to comfort each other.
Should I send a letter of apology to her family and some of her friends for not being there? Should I go visit them?
Still So Sad
No apology is needed; you had an important purpose regarding your own family where you were.
You’re still grieving a tragedy, understandably, but there are ways to try and lift that burden.
If you have faith, saying prayers for your friend at a house of worship may give you the feeling of community support you missed. And, a chance to cry among people who’ll understand and comfort you.
If that’s not your way, write a poem or journal about your friend and the great bond and good times you shared.
However, if you still carry the burden of unfinished tears, consider getting grief counselling, and/or joining a bereavement group where others who’ve suffered a loss will be sharing similar emotions.
FEEDBACK Regarding who’s a child’s “real” father (Dec. 17):
Reader – “My adult son still has no desire to meet his biological father.
“We were kids when got pregnant. My ex said if we didn't get married, then he wasn't going to be a dad.
“While pregnant, I met someone else. He was with me in the delivery room, and the next 20 years.
“From age five, my son was told his “Daddy” didn't help mommy make a baby, but he did everything else like going to the park, coaching his hockey team, reading bedtime stories.
“Children will ask for answers they’re ready to hear. At five, my son’s only question was if his real father was dead.
“I said No, he shrugged, and asked if I was making his favourite food for lunch.
“The longer you keep this secret, the more you’re creating a negative environment around the issue.”
Tip of the day:
An adult child’s post-divorce rudeness reflects the past far more than the present.