by Richmond Mom Tina Pollard 
, blog: http://www.tina-pollard.blogspot.com/
Dear Mom and Dad:
In two weeks you’re going to be pulling out of your driveway for the last time. You’ll be waving good-bye from the front seats of your pretty mini-van. With you will be two dogs securely fastened in their car seats with wagging tails, wondering about this next big adventure. Queenie and Princess will have no clue that they’ve just retired to the good life, but soon they’ll discover their new digs in Myrtle Beach.
I’m not sure how Queenie and Princess lucked out to spend their teen years basking on the beach, while the rest of your children were only taken to this paradise once a year, but that’s a question for another day.
Many years ago the two of you blended our family. From what I recall, you both brought two kids into the relationship. From there, I’m guessing that you fed us orange juice laced with a potion that caused memory loss. I say this because none of us remember which parent we arrived with, only that we’re part of the same family.
Until several years ago I was convinced I was the favorite child. Initially I thought it was because I didn’t skip school [as much] as Harold did. I also didn’t total my first car a week after I got it like Tammy did [I waited a whole year]. And I didn’t run up a $500 phone bill from my college dorm room, like Lisa did. I was practically perfect, unlike those other three kids!
When I was 19 years old and announced that you were going to be grandparents, you probably could have been a little more gentle – after all, I was “with child”. I have to tell you that I seriously questioned my status as your favorite when I overheard you talking to each other about how irresponsible I had been…and how you’d raised me better than that. It certainly did nothing for my ego when you said you brought me into this world and you’ll take me back out of it. Whew – veins were popping in your head that day!
Shortly after that whole unfortunate episode, you guys pulled yourselves together and got back to the business of parenting. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to think of yourselves as grandparents when you were barely over the age of 40, but the minute Ridge was born, all that talk about how I’d disappointed you went right out the window. Ya’ll were like giddy teenagers as you held your grandson and marveled at his sweetness. That’s when I knew I was definitely back in your good graces. I had just handed you an amazing gift.
It took no time before you handed that “gift” right back to me. After we brought him home from the hospital, you changed…a lot. That whole thing where Ridge cried every two hours was exhausting…but then you wouldn’t know because you refused to get up with him. Instead, you’d get up, wake me from my peaceful sleep and say, “Tina, Ridge is crying. You need to get up and take care of him.” Come on! Can’t one of you feed him this time?
When it was time to change the most foul-smelling diapers on the planet, you were nowhere to be found. When he needed his first bath, you thought it was funny that I was sprayed in the face by a leaking baby boy. (I think you could have warned me that was coming)
As I recovered from the cesarean delivery, I was ready for a night out with my friends. You both agreed that I should have that time away, but it was just my bad luck that Friday and Saturday nights were your date nights. Did I have a sitter in mind? Had I planned to spend money on a sitter? My way of thinking was that you’d had PLENTY of date nights and I’d had none. I’m not sure I liked the way you reminded me I had indeed had a date night and Ridge was proof.
The real kicker was when I went back to work and you made me pay rent to live at home. What kind of garbage was this? I was your kid! Since when do kids have to pay to live at home? (“Since they doubled in size by bringing in an extra kid.”) You followed that up with how much you LOVE having Ridge and I at home with you, but that I should feel free to find my own place.”It shouldn’t be too hard to find somewhere to live for $200 a month when you’re raking in $6.50 an hour.” Needless to say, I didn’t move out.
When I began to complain that my job was awful…way too much for me to deal with, you both nodded your heads with what seemed to be complete understanding. As the tears rolled off my cheeks, I just knew that the next words out of your mouth would be, “You’re our little girl and you do not have to put up with such harsh conditions. You can stay home and we’ll take care of you and Ridge until you find something you like.” Unfortunately, I was delirious with fever that day because what you actually said was, “That’s rough, but you have to hang in there because you have a child to feed. It’s not all about you.”
It’s been 22 years since I had Ridge. At some point while you guys were being “mean” to me, I grew up, pulled my head out of the clouds, married Ridge’s dad and went on to have two more children. For some reason, after that, you changed again. You only offered advice when I asked for it. You often kept all three children while their dad and I went out on dates…even on Friday and Saturday nights. You even spent all that money I paid in rent (plus MUCH, MUCH more) buying the kids new winter coats every year along with most of their clothing, shoes and toys. You were the first to recognize any good decision I made with regards to raising the kids and you rewarded that with constant encouragement and uplifting talks where you told me how proud you are.
Of your four children, I know I’ve been the most vocal about not wanting you to move. While my siblings have warned you not to listen to me, and have expressed their excitement over coming for visits to the beach, I have pouted and even resorted to guilt trips. I am sorry.
In my heart, I could not be happier for you. This is what you’ve dreamed of for years. The warmer climate, the golf courses, and a house without stairs is certainly not too much to ask. I just want you to know and understand that my fear of you leaving is that I’ll never get the chance to thank you enough for how you’ve loved me. My greatest joy in life has come from being a mother. Even though I was ill-equipped, immature, and without a clue, you made me learn. You didn’t give me an out. When it would have been so much easier just to take care of Ridge yourself, you refused to rob me of that experience. You understood the importance of my role in ways that I didn’t understand for years to come. So, I thank you for being so “mean”. I thank you for making me get up in the middle of the night with my crying child…I learned patience and I bonded with him. Thank you for not making it easy for me to venture back out with my friends where I could have made further mistakes. Thank you for giving me work ethic – where I can’t just quit the minute I’m unhappy. Thank you for showing me the value of paying my own way. Thank you for EVERY SINGLE THING.
I’ll see you at the beach!
Love, Always & Forever,
One of your favorite children
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