Perspective

My In-Laws were in town this past weekend. To say my relationship with them is strained would probably be the understatement of the year. However, if I take a step back and look at our relationship from a wide angle, my relationship with them is no different then their relationship with my husband or the family members I have seen them interact with.

My in-laws live in a very small world. They don't live near family. They don't have large circles of friends that they interact with and they aren't very close to each other. It's a bit of a pathetic, yet true statement when I say, one of them could die in the house and the other wouldn't know for several days. They are just... different.

In the past their visits have left me feeling angry and annoyed. They come, they boss, they made rude comments and they leave. When they aren't bossing or saying rude things, they ignore me completely. It's tough stuff and it often leaves Mr. Berg and I feeling tense and strained. For whatever reason, this past weekend, left me feeling sorry for them and grateful for me. I'm not sure where the change of perspective came from, but it's certainly a different feeling then before.

Mostly, I'm sad for them:

They don't have a marriage that most would strive for.

Their relationship with their son is stunted. They stopped being involved the day he left for college. They stopped being interested the day he graduated. Even today, I'm not sure they could really explain what he does for a living or what his motivations are. They don't have any understanding of what his interests are or what his life generally looks like. Partially because they can't relate to it (which is another story for another time) and partly because it never occurred to them to ask, 

Their lives center very much around themselves and their interests. They can talk for days about what books they're reading or what self taught courses they are taking. They can talk about the stock market or what they read in the news. Their conversations with my husband revolve around what is happening at his former school or our college- all information gained from annual publications we also read. When they visit, they often tell us about the "new Target" or the City Center being built in their town, the same stories we heard 6, 12, 24 months ago.

They don't know very much about me, and it's not because I don't tell them.
When they visit they ask about my brother, sometimes about my parents.
They might ask me about my job, but in a "what do you go again?" sense, they couldn't care less about the specifics.

They have no idea I made partner, no idea how many people we employ, no idea that sometimes I can't sleep at night because I worry about the benefit and well being of not only my family sleeping under my own roof, but the families of the 160 people who work for me.

They've never even considered what that might mean to someone.

They don't know my Pop-Pop passed away in December or the extra medical care I have to receive to ensure their second grandson makes it into this world safely. Honestly, I'm not sure they are even aware of my due date.

They don't know Ryan's favorite color or that he loves school or things the movie Monster's Inc. is the bees knees. 

They keep talking about when we build our next house but they have no idea we had to liquidate 75% our savings account to invest in my company.

They don't know because they don't ask any it's not even worth telling them because they won't really be listening anyway.

If anything, when they pulled out of our driveway on Sunday evening, I felt nothing but relief mixed with gratitude. Relief it would be (hopefully) months until we saw them again. Gratitude that my life and my world is so much large then their. Gratitude that I understand what is doing on in the world around me and they there is so much more to life then just what happens in my front yard.

And I'm sad. Sad because my little family is left feeling strained after their visits, instead of happy. Sad because it shouldn't have to be that way. Sad, because I my relationship with my parents so much more then I could ever explain. I wish Mr. Berg could feel the same way about his.