On this date, in 2018, I posted that someone had stolen a credit card out of our mail box, activated it, and bought themselves a top-of-the-line computer! Um, Merry Christmas? (Yes, we disputed the charge.) The very next day we learned that fixing our basement leak would require extensive (i.e. expensive) ditch digging to re-route a failing drain pipe. I thought of the old joke about an uber-optimistic kid getting a pile of manure for Christmas:
“There must be a pony here somewhere!”
Meanwhile, our out-of-towner daughter had flown in for the holidays. It had been ten years since she’d moved away, and we’d only seen her in person twice a year since then. Her trips home provided treasured Dad Times (and still do).
But our Daughter-and-Dad-Day was oddly tense that year. So I prodded, and she finally admitted being frustrated with our bi-annual convos. My barrages of fatherly advice, she said, always made her feel like she was still a kid, with few valued experiences or opinions of her own!
And I suddenly felt like I was under a huge pile of manure—one of my own making. I was guilty as charged. I’d made this mess, and now I needed to clean it up. Her words hurt because they were true. In many ways, our relationship had frozen when she moved away. It was a case of arrested development.
Mine.
So I asked her forgiveness. She backpedaled, saying it was her fault, too. “No, you’re right,” I insisted. “I need to get to know you as a grown-up with insights of your own.” This very conversation was, in fact, the result of one of those insights.
It was a lot to process all at once, so we had an impromptu follow-up that evening. As the tension dissipated, she shared her views on myriad subjects, not all of which I agreed with, but all of which were heartfelt and well-informed. Wow! I thought. This is one very impressive young woman!
I went to bed that night with a heart full of gratitude.
I’d finally found the pony.
Love this. My relationship with our oldest daughter has been, at times, troubled, but has been much better over the past decade, at least. There are things that we don’t agree on, of course, but our conversations are much deeper, and I respect her views. Oddly, enough, some of mine have moved closer to some of hers, as I get older.
I get that, Jeff, same here.
Can I have a new favorite Mitch post? This might be the one. I can relate…not to the manure and theft aspects 😉but to the daddy-daughter moments of magic. I think they apply to a certain mommy-daughter duo I know…
xo, Mitch! 🥰
Aw, thanks, Vicki. Glad you could relate (in a good way ;>).
How very amazing.many relationships could’ve saved if people just talked to and listened to each other
Amen to that, Beth!
My father found the pony early on….it helped two obstinate individuals realise that they could find a way to agree!
Thank you!!! Just what I needed to hear.
So happy to hear that.
I’ve noticed that most of your stories have a happy ending, Mitch. I like to imagine there’s always a pony under all the manure—somewhere.
A wonderful story and a great way to resolve hidden conflicts like these. Best get it out into the open and deal with it rationally, leaving room for painful emotion but not letting it define everything. Some people (me included) often let emotion get the better of us and focus on the hurt rather than reflecting and finding the pony like you put it. I’m glad you sorted things out with your daughter.
I’m glad I did too, OP, and thanks.
I can relate to the grown up daughter thing. Isn’t it neat when our kids grow up and become our friends?
Yes!
This reminded me of a conversation that I had with my mother when I was in my thirties. We were having a genial conversation when she unexpectedly said that she thoroughly enjoyed talking with me because she always learned something interesting. It said so much about her love for learning, her humility, and that, while I wasn’t paying attention, she had adjusted to my being an adult with whom she had a reciprocal relationship. It was an overwhelming moment for me
How cool is that, Michael.
Hello, what an interesting story, I never got it right with my mother before she died.
I guess that’s where therapy comes in, Eileen, even self-guided therapy. I’ve had a few break-through moments with my father since his death.
You’re a smart dad, Mitch. My parents never treated me as an adult, even after I’d grown up, moved out, got married, and had kids of my own. I probably should have been more understanding and forgiving of them, but my hatred of being treated as if I were a mentally-defective 12-year-old really sabotaged our relationship.
Sorry to hear that, BoB, and I get it (see my comment to Eileen above this one).
I have forgiven them. Holding grudges isn’t my style. 🙂
Yup, always look for that pony.
A “pony up” moment. Love it and I sadly relate.
It’s very sad when family members become estranged because of a lack of communication or differences of opinion. Fortunately, as a father you do an important thing to keep the lines of communication open–listen. 🙂
Sometimes anyway. Thanks, Nancy.
So hard that when they grow up, they grow away from us, to become their own unique person. I’ve gone through it with my boys and now, I’m facing the same with my grandboys. So very hard to let go and let God but oh so very rewarding. My eyes are full of tears as I comment because I feel both your pain and your joy.
Healthy rites of passage, but hard nontheless.
This is bittersweet for me because both of my folks are gone now, thus any chance of resolving lingering emotional issues. I was daddy’s favorite little girl, but the relationship deteriorated in the last years from various factors such as my unhealthy relationship with my awful exhusband, and my dad’s personality changes from a mild stroke. He’d become very abrupt and dismissive, removed, a different man. I like, and need to remember him as he was, before.
So sorry you had to go through that, Kate. And, yes, I think when you remember your father as he was before, you’re remembering the true him. We all need to see and be seen through the eyes of grace.
Mitch, this post moved me!
My husband and I are guilty of dishing out motherly and fatherly advice to our two grown-up children. We always say that advising them at any age is in our job description. But as they are older, they know what is right for them. They seem to accept our compulsion to advise, fully knowing that the final decision is theirs.
However, as we have aged, we have been at the receiving end of their advice! We receive it graciously because it warms our hearts to know that our children care for and love us.
Best wishes.
Sounds like you have warm and healthy relationship with your adult children, Chaya!
Thank you, Mitch.
Best wishes.
This is a great story, Mitch. I can identify with being under a pile of manure of my own making. I’m trusting through God’s grace to one day see the pony.
I feel this. My daughter’s moved out a little over a year ago and I struggle to ensure our conversations are not me vomiting my advice all over them. I feel it’s my way of making up for things I may have missed as they were growing up.
It takes some adjustment to accept the new relationship with our adult children, and especially when they bring in a mate and then children…they are still our baby, but not. We have to learn a new “dance.”
Exactly, DK.
“Wow! I thought. This is one very impressive young woman!”
She’s half you and your wife, of course, she is! The older my dad and I get, the better our relationship gets. I’m grateful for that.
<3
Mitch, thanks for being willing to be vulnerable in sharing this story. I suspect there are a lot of us who could use a gentle reminder to treat our adult children as adults. It’s not easy, especially when we know they are making poor choices. But we can’t decide for them. It gets to the point where talking to God about them is more effective than talking to them about God.
You nailed with that last sentence, Annie.
Luckily, I went though this with my kids when they were 16. Now, both adults, they are more likely to give me advice, which I take because invariably, they’re right.
You’ve put me in mind of my father-daughter relationship. I didn’t know my Dad. He was around a few times in my very early life but gone by the time I was four. Eventually, I went to Italy looking for him, only to discover he was living not far from where I grew up in Sydney, with his wife, two daughters, and son.
We met when I was 25 and formed a close enough relationship before his death 13 years later, during which years we saw each other frequently in the Italian way of family.
But even though I’d left home at 16, had supported myself in any number of jobs, had travelled independently in Europe for four years, for which I had saved ferociously and budgeted judiciously, (and worked illegally in various European countries 🙂 ) he still insisted on giving me unsolicited advice and opinions. The one that stung most was when I saved up again as I re-established myself in Australia, and he said that was probably the first time I didn’t spend my money on frivolities! Coming from a man who never sent any maintenance in those prior 25 years, I thought it a bit rich.
But when I calmed down, I realised it was a sign of acceptance from him. From the time they left school, until they married in their very early 20s, my Dad maintained oversight of my two sisters’ income, expenditure and savings. So, in making that remark, unjust as it was, he revealed to me that in his eyes, I was equal to them.
But, hey! It took a lot of insight and forgiveness to reach that philosophical state, and all that time he was probably blissfully unaware just how angry I was 🙂
‘Cos Dad’s are supposed to know what’s best for their little girls – no matter what. It’s in the guidebook.
That’s quite a journey of relationship forming and repair, Gwen!
Mmmm, might be a hint in there for other dads in a similar situation.
This is a heartwarming share, and thank you for posting the story. For me, it’s a reminder to listen well to someone else. Not just to open your ears, but open your mind and heart to understand them. I can see why you felt gratitude. And I would guess that your daughter felt similarly. 🙂
Communication is a key indeed 💓
Getting along with adult sons and daughters is something we learn as we go. Personally, I try to remember how I felt about my parents as I aged, but it doesn’t seem to translate well. Mostly, I’ve learned to listen more than I talk and to hold my tongue unless it absolutely necessary to speak up. Sounds as if you’ve made huge progress with your daughter!
Getting there. Thanks, for your own reflections, Ann.
Great post. One I needed to hear. 😊
<3
Wonderful story. We should take care of each relationship in life. We should listen to each other and express our feelings to our loved ones.
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Ah yes children will always test your patience we love them all the same by God they have attitudes and are good at draining your resources mind the credit card ha
That is a wonderful story!
Thank you, Jennie.
You’re welcome, Mitch.
What a heartfelt journey! Recognizing and mending relationships is a beautiful gift. How has your connection with your daughter evolved since then?
Beautifully, Moumita. We remain close despite the physical distance, and talk on the phone regularly. Blessings.
Parenting adult children is a challenge. We raise them to be independent and self-sufficient people, and then when they are, we say things like, “But he/she never needs our help anymore.” No wonder they think we’re insane.
;>)
Absolutely wonderful!
Thank you, Stephanie.
You are welcome. Thank you for sharing this. God bless.
You too.
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