Dear Mrs. Bluth,
My heart is breaking and I don’t know what to do. I never imagined I would have to go through such heartbreak. This involves my son and daughter- in-law, with whom I live.
When my daughter-in-law gave birth to her last child, I came to stay and help her take care of their six young children, with this new baby making it seven in total. All the other children were as they should be, never giving my daughter-in-law any trouble or angst, but this new little one was a handful from the beginning. She was difficult and cranky, a bad sleeper and an incessant crier. So my six-week stay ended up being an eleven-year residency. I did go back home at the end of the first six weeks as planned, however, my daughter-in-law begged me to come and stay a little longer because she couldn’t deal with this baby and take care of the other children. So I ended up moving in and the baby became my main focus.
She was truly a very difficult child, this newest little one, throwing fits when she didn’t want to nap, banging her head against the bars of her crib and, as she got older, screaming and pulling out clumps of her hair that have left her with a series of bald spots that never really grew back. When upset, she would destroy things, breaking knickknacks and frames and whatever she could get a hold of to throw. She was so difficult that my daughter-in-law could not bring herself to hold her, much less love her and it was left to me to try to care for my youngest grandchild and supply her with the love and care that no one wanted to give her. I could not blame anyone for this as this little girl was anything but lovable.
As she grew, this child went from one doctor to another as we tried to find out how to deal with her tantrums, her screaming fits of rage and her ever growing strength. Every professional gave a different diagnosis, one prescribed sedatives to calm her, but that made things worse. Another gave a diet regimen that caused her to vomit and she refused to eat. Yet others said she was Autistic, but high functioning because when she was calm, she was very bright and articulate, but those moments were short lived. One thing became evident over the course of those early years, when she was with me she was calm and seldom misbehaved.
Truth to tell, I loved this little one because I saw that no one else would or could. She, too, began to notice that her mother kissed and hugged the other children but kept her at arms length, going rigid when she asked to be hugged or receiving a cold, quick peck on the cheek. So she would come to me for the warmth, the hugs and the kisses and the soothing words that no one else had for her and I truly and genuinely love this child because she is different and alone in a house full of interacting people. I also noticed that my daughter-in-law didn’t much care for the attention I lavished on this child. One evening, last week, I heard her complaining to my son that I was not a good influence on this child and that maybe it would be better if I went home so that this child would learn to find her place in the family, I was devastated because I knew that this child would not understand my sudden disappearance and would go into a raving fit. I packed my bags and made ready to leave the next morning but not before I told my son and daughter-in-law that this little girl would never be like the other children because she couldn’t conform to a normal routine as the other kids. She is different and would always be different, hard to understand or to reason with and even harder to love. Then I left.
Yesterday was five days since I left and I got a frantic call late last night that my eleven-year-old grandchild ran away from the house screaming that she was going to live with me! The only problem was that I lived a good bus ride away from them. I quickly dressed and ran out to get to their house and got there just as a neighbor, who found her sitting on a park bench, crying and confused, brought her home. The minute she saw me she fell into my arms. I promised her that I would be there in the morning and only got her to bed when I let her hold onto my purse. After she was asleep, my son insisted that I come back and live with them. He said that it had been impossible with her since I left and that I was the only one who could control her and to whom she would listen. But I could feel the resentment from my daughter-in-law, as if I had purposely emotionally kidnapped their child. My brain told me not to go back, but my heart told me I had to be there for this little girl until she grew up.
So here I am, sitting in my new living quarters in their basement, wondering whether I had made the right choice or not. I know this is not a normal situation and there is a very real undercurrent of friction emanating from my daughter-in-law towards me, but even though I love her and understand how badly she feels about my needing to be there, I know that for this child to grow to adulthood I must be there to hug her, love her and encourage her to be the best person she can be in a world that does not understand her, cannot tolerate her, has no patients for her and is unwilling to accept her. Did I do right or am I deluding both of us?
Dear Friend,
There is a lump in my throat that threatens to bring down the tears behind my eyes as I finished reading your letter. What a special bubby you must be to have devoted yourself so completely to this special little neshama. I truly understand the hardships of raising a child with deficiencies, it is a long and hard road for any family to endure. Still, being Yidden and understanding and accepting that the Ribono Shel Olam chooses only the most worthy and caring families to whom He entrusts these special neshamos! These children are indeed difficult and hard to love, but they, too, suffer being shoved aside in their peers, frowned upon, friendless, as devalued remnants of society. Where is the rachmanus? Where is ahavas Yisrael? Where is the understanding that a child born imperfect is not a curse to the family it was born into, but rather, a blessed challenge to prove that we are worthy of Hashem’s love because we, too, are imperfect in so many ways. The wise and true believers will understand that such a child is a gift that is meant to bring out the very best in us, but more often than not, that is not the case.
I admire your courage and your deep love for this imperfectly perfect little girl. You are her everything because there isn’t anyone else that sees with your eyes and feels with your heart how much she needs what every child needs, even though she’s different and precisely for that reason Hashem knew exactly where to send her! You made the right choice to stay and be the loving support that she needs in order to exist in this cold and unforgiving world.
May Hashem bless you with many happy and healthy years so that you may see the wonderful growth process and surprising achievements your love will bring forth from this little girl and the nachas she will bring to the family that hopefully will take lesson from your lead. Hatzlacha rabbah and much Yiddish nachas!
