Memories of Mom: In the Middle

To see the reason for my writing this "Memories of Mom" series, see the first post in the series.

When I was living in Oregon, my mom sometimes had the unenviable position of being stuck between my grandma and me. Gram and I loved each other very much, but she had a very narrow viewpoint of life, was critical of everything that didn't fit within it, and when she was angry with me for transgressing these things, she would let my mom know about it. She also let me know about it, but she expected my mom to actually do something about it. This put pressure on my mom and when I occasionally complained to her about Gram, she let me know how difficult she found her position in the middle. So I endeavored to not put her there anymore.

Sometimes all three of us would go into the valley to Salem together to shop and have lunch. We didn't often get to go together because I worked and my Gram often got too tired, so it was always a treat when we managed it. Mom always insisted that Gram and I choose where to eat, hoping to avoid problems there, and Gram and I took turns choosing, to be fair.

One time we went to Salem and before lunchtime came, we had to decide where to eat. Now, Gram was becoming extremely picky by that time and didn't always like to eat just any place. So I offered to let her choose, but she insisted that it was my turn to choose, so I chose The Fish House. They had things other than fish, so Gram could have her choice, but they did specialize in seafood. Gram said that was fine.

Until we got to the restaurant. Then she complained that she didn't want fish, that she'd had fish recently and she didn't like to eat fish that often. Even as we sat down with our menus, both Mom and I told her that we could eat elsewhere.

"No," she said. "This is Cindy's choice." (If you didn't know that I legally changed my first name a few years ago, you do now.) And then she returned to bitching and moaning about having to eat at a fish place.

It made me feel miserable. I knew she didn't have to eat fish if she didn't want it. I knew she'd insisted it was my turn to choose. But I am a pleaser and it killed me that she was so unhappy and because I was trying to not argue with her and make Mom feel put in the middle.

Near the end of the meal, I had to visit the restroom. When I came back, Gram had done an about-face. She complimented the food she was eating. She was nice. The Bad Gram had disappeared. When she had to take her turn visiting the restroom, Mom clued me in.

As much as Mom didn't like to be put in the middle, she also wasn't above chewing one of us out for bad behavior. As her daughter, I endeavored to behave well because she had no problem letting me know if she felt I'd done wrong. Well it turned out she had no problem doing the same thing with her mother. She told Gram in no uncertain terms that she was behaving like a spoiled brat, reminding her that I'd offered to let her choose where to eat and that she'd insisted I choose, and reminding her that she hadn't had to choose fish (even the tuna melt she'd chosen). Mom told Gram she was making me feel bad and that she had to stop immediately. And Mom was mad.

Gram was on her best behavior the rest of the day and it all went smoothly and pleasantly, and I could enjoy the company of my grandma and my mom together, not something I could always do in the coming years, for various reasons.

Mom didn't like being put in the middle, but when she was she did her best to do what was needed, which sometimes was nothing. But mess with her kid and it didn't matter that you were her own mother, you didn't get away with it. My mom wasn't generally my hero, as much as I loved her. But that day she achieved hero status with me for protecting me. Sometimes you just don't see how much your parents do for you until you are many years into adulthood. I don't know how much more she did for me, but she was my adult hero. I was very lucky to have her for my mom.