Comments on: Open and Shut Cases

By: Kate

Kate — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 15:09:11 +0000

Thank you Ruth for reminding me of this ….”You can open your heart, just a crack, or keep it shut. At this point in your life and hers, you still have a choice.” My Mom is 92 and changing (for the worse) mentally; some days I don’t even recognize her as my Mom. But on other days, she’s all there. I try to love and admire her through it all, frustrating and sad as it may be in the moment. I think when she’s gone, I’ll have no regrets and for this I am grateful. Thank you, Ruth.

By: JCK

JCK — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 23:48:40 +0000

Ruth, have you thought about having this post in the paper where you have a column? Or another paper. This resonates deeply with many of us. I feel lucky to have read this piece of advice, as I am like your friend with young children, and my mother is still alive. I have quite a good relationship with her, but had never thought consciously about her needing my validation. Such a great post!

By: ruthpennebaker

ruthpennebaker — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 20:06:36 +0000

I do think we’re all harder on our mothers than our fathers. Of course, when did I notice this? After I became a mother myself. Figures.

By: bfa

bfa — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 19:57:11 +0000

Thank you, thank you. You just made me realize that I give this sort of approval to my father, but sometimes withhold it from my mother. I hadn’t even noticed. And I’m somewhat ashamed. But I am lucky to have time to work on it (I hope).

By: Barbara @ Travel With Hole In The Donut

Barbara @ Travel With Hole In The Donut — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 20:35:56 +0000

You are not, in my opinion, being the least simplistic. My mother died six years ago and one of the things for which I am eternally grateful is that I had nothing left to resole with her. She always knew how much I loved her. Now, Dad is quite another matter. But again I am fortunate in that my mother’s passing gave me the opportunity to get to know my father. I have learned how to love and accept him with all his foibles ans prejudices, and in so doing, he has developed the capacity to love me back. I am sure your young friend will some day thank you mightily for this advice.

By: Anne Gibert

Anne Gibert — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 03:34:26 +0000

It’s a true fact that when we get old kids have the upper hand, and especially daughters. My kids have finally stopped reminding me of past failures and deficiencies, but I know they are just being kind because of my advanced age. They won’t really forgive me until they discover that their kids hold them responsible for all their past errors. My oldest son, who has no children, may never learn this theorem of the generations. He did tell me, though, on my recent visit to him when I cooked his dinner a couple of times, that I am a better cook than his brother, the professional chef. I’ll take what I can get.

The above was not what I really wanted to say though, which was, thank you for writing that. It really touched a nerve.

By: SimplyForties

SimplyForties — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 02:48:43 +0000

Thank you so much for this article. My mother has always had a bit of a strange, almost competitive relationship with me, which I’ve never understood. I’m spending a week with her at the end of next month and, thanks to you, I am going to concentrate on validating HER. Fascinating. It never occurred to me that she might be missing that from me. Thank you for the insight. Hopefully this will be a turning point for us.

By: Craig

Craig — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 01:23:49 +0000

I have a young friend as well. She frequently shares with me she has no time for regrets in her life. I just grit my teeth, breathe deeply, and say nothing.

By: Cindy A

Cindy A — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 21:17:52 +0000

Thank you so much for sharing this. I do exactly the same thing. My mom will tell some crazy story about being the only one, after several brawny men had tried, who could get a horse into a trailer by gently wrapping the end of a whip around its back leg so that it feels like a snake. I should have told her how amazing that was instead of ignoring it.

Guess we just assume that mothers are supposed to give reassurance, not get it.

Thankfully, my own daughter is much more considerate of me. One night at a restaurant with a friend and a group of her friends, I told my daughter, “Boy, Robin sure has really nice friends.” My 10-year-old daughter said, “Mom, YOU are one of Robin’s really nice friends.”

Now that I remember how good that felt, I should have told my mom she must have been Annie Oakley in a past life with that trailering feat.