Yesterday, I shared a snapshot of my youngest daughter on a swing with my mother. She’s just 2 years old, sporting blonde hair and striking blue-green eyes. From what I gather, she bears quite a resemblance to my mother at that age. I mentioned this in my text, and my mom replied with an enthusiastic “LOL. Yes, she sure does!” My mom, now in her early 60s, only embraced smartphone technology a couple of years ago, and honestly, it has significantly improved our relationship.
Now, I wouldn’t say we have a toxic relationship; it’s just complicated. When I was 12, following my father’s departure and before his passing, I made the decision to move out while my mom was at her second job. The situation was chaotic and confusing, and I felt I had no other option. I briefly lived with my father, but that didn’t pan out, leading me to my paternal grandmother’s home—a woman I adored, but who my mom had a tumultuous relationship with.
There’s obviously more to this story, but to put it simply, our relationship has struggled to heal since then. Now, at 33 with three kids of my own, I want my mother to be a part of their lives. Yet, we often find our conversations clouded by unresolved feelings from the past. I yearn for her to know what my kids are doing, and for them to form a bond with her. But the weight of our shared history makes it difficult for her to be the kind of grandmother my children would thrive with, and the one I know she wishes to be. The saddest part is that my kids are missing out because of our past mistakes.
Currently, my mom lives in Utah while I’m in Oregon. She visits occasionally, but to put it bluntly, she’s seen my kids no more than seven to ten times in the seven years since I moved. I know she desires to be involved, but the distance and our history complicate things. Rather than engage in hard conversations, I’ve taken to sending her pictures of the kids playing in the yard or enjoying ice cream—those joyful moments that every grandmother cherishes. Occasionally, I’ll share videos of them being silly or participating in sports. Our text exchanges are brief, often consisting of her asking me to relay her love to the children or sharing random snapshots from her life. It’s all done through text.
This may sound unusual to friends with more conventional relationships with their parents, but honestly, this is the best relationship I’ve had with my mom. Texting has filtered out much of the past tension. We avoid revisiting old wounds and the uncomfortable silences that often accompany family conversations. Instead, we share images and emojis, allowing us to connect without the baggage. My kids haven’t picked up on the awkwardness that sometimes permeates our Skype chats or when she visits, but my wife has noticed it, and we both know it’s only a matter of time before the kids start to question.
Perhaps this dynamic is common among children of divorced parents. Maybe many families maintain similar connections through texts and photographs. Or maybe it’s just my experience. Recently, my mom joined Facebook, and while she may be a decade behind, it seems to invigorate her. It’s opened up another channel for us to share our lives. She comments on my photos, and I do the same on hers. Though we don’t chat extensively, receiving a “heart” from her feels more meaningful than any like from others on social media. My children now often ask about Grandma when they see me online, eager to know what she’s up to.
While this isn’t an ideal situation, and I doubt either of us envisioned grandparenting through texts and social media, it’s become a viable option after years of strained attempts to connect. This experience encourages me to strive for a better relationship with my own children and gives me hope that perhaps this digital communication will help restore my bond with my mother. Maybe it can lead to a new chapter where I can seek her advice and share casual conversations without the shadow of past grievances.
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In summary, while my relationship with my mother has its complexities, texting has provided a safe and effective way for us to stay connected. It has allowed us to share our lives without the weight of past grievances, opening the door for potential healing and growth in our family dynamic.
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