The grandparents in Missouri hadn’t seen the boy in 8 years or so, and I thought they must be yearning to see him. They have financial and transportation issues, so I tried to save them the trip. They seemed grateful when I cheerfully offered to bring him the 200-odd miles to visit. That was my first mistake.
The boy wasn’t too hot on the idea of meeting his other family, but I convinced him it would be emotionally rewarding. That was my second mistake.
In preparation for the trip, my wife went through the million or so pictures that all grandmothers seem to have. She picked out a couple of dozen photos of highlights from the years we’ve had the boy. I bought a respectable photo album and we made a nice gift book for the other grandparents. We even paid too much to get them a nice print on glass. That was our third mistake.
On the fateful day we left at darktime so we could be in Missouri early. We frequently called and texted our progress towards the meeting place, their hometown McDonalds. We arrived tired but on time. That was our 4th mistake.
It took them roughly 30 minutes to make the mile from the house to the restaurant. Still, we remained upbeat. When they arrived I introduced the boy to his family and he presented them with the gifts. They barely looked at them. They didn’t thank him, or us. Still, we persevered, which continued our streak of mistakes.
After a couple of hours during which we did the talking and the other family merely breathed, we announced we were leaving. Nobody seemed to care, least of all the other family. We started back from the worst reunion ever. We made it home tired but demoralized.
Being the 21st century, I checked Facebook to see if the “others” had a reaction to the visit. There was no mention of their spending time with the long lost grandson. Interestingly, the did post in great detail their trip that same night to Fenton for dinner and a movie. Remember how they were strapped and we saved them money by going all of the way to their town? Their trip to Fenton was about the half-way point to our house, so they could have saved us time, money, and discomfort.
My wife keeps telling me we did the right thing. I’m not convinced. My “theory of mind” was that they would feel like I would feel. I was very wrong. What I cared deeply about they didn’t care about at all. I’m not seeing how I was morally correct or even morally relevant.
Doing for others and helping others is nice, right? It’s selfless, right? I’m not so sure. If what I did was selfless, why was I looking for an emotional payoff? I guess I’m selfish because I want my good works to be acknowledged. In our situation I was feeling all holy like the New Testament Pharisees. Maybe I was effectively saying, “Look at me, I’m doing a good thing. Admire me, because I am better than you people.”
Maybe my wife is right when she says, effectively, “Do what’s right and shut up about it.” She also said that we taught the boy how to be giving and to do the right thing, whatever that it.
Maybe I’m all bent out of shape because I got them completely wrong. Maybe I forgot to ask what they wanted. Maybe I bullied them into a visit they didn’t really want at an inopportune time and place. Maybe I need to get off of my high horse.
So were our actions the right things? I have no clue. I do know that if there’s a future visit, I’m not going any further than McDonalds. But I’ll try to be on time. They can take their own pictures.
Fini.
It will feel right to shop on Amazon for the “Geezer Rock” books authored by Charlie Melton. You can always email him at geezer.rocker@gmail.com anytime.
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