BEL MOONEY: How can I stop my daughter deserting her kids?

Dear Bel

Having been abandoned at the age of 13 along with my five siblings by our mother who left for a new life with another man, I find history could be repeating itself with a twist.

My daughter had two failed marriages (her partners’ fault) with one child from the second. Then came a disastrous relationship with a narcissistic control freak which resulted in twins.

I thought she had at last met someone who cared for her, but after several years of ups and downs (mostly concerning her children) he cheated and she kicked him out.

She now has a new man and, after only several weeks, feels he is a keeper. They like the same things and can chat for hours. Most of all, he makes her laugh. He has asked whether she’d move away with him if they are still together by the end of the year. She has said yes.

But her children are flatly refusing to move away from family, friends and school. The eldest is at college and the twins are at secondary school. My daughter thinks she deserves to put her happiness first, even if it means moving away without them and has told them as much.

I have always put my children first and I believe your children (no matter what age) will always be your children. My daughter knows I love my grandchildren unconditionally. They would want to live with me if it comes to it.

Do I tell my daughter not to be so selfish? Or ask how could she possibly abandon her children when they could end up hating her?

You will understand my feeling of deja vu. Yes, she deserves to be happy (all I have ever wanted for her), but not at the expense of her children. This will be hanging over us all for a year! I fear if I step in now it will cause a huge rift between me and my daughter. I am at a loss how to handle this situation.

GLENDA

What a miserable, worrying situation for you — and everyone will understand the pain and hurt behind your letter, contained within that phrase, ‘my feeling of deja vu’.

At the age of 13 you suffered a terrible abandonment — and I expect you can understand why I mention that feeling when discussing the situation of Lawrence’s sons in response to his letter today (below). Lord knows, adults can do great damage to children, all the worse when that damage is inflicted by those who expect to protect and love us.

Now you see your daughter in the first throes of a heady new passion planning to inflict the same pain, the same hurt. It must be causing you such anguish.

My feelings about the situation mirror your own. I can understand that your daughter feels she deserves happiness now after three failed relationships.

Yet, like you, I believe that we have a duty to the children who did not ask to be brought into this world and who depend on their mother, father or both, for support and love. I could no more have left my children than I could fly.

You know, this ‘year’ business may be hanging over you, yet at the same time it offers respite.

It feels quite strange that a man who professes to be in love with a woman should so quickly ask her to agree to a plan of taking her away from her family. Why?

Perhaps he’s planning a job move . . . but why lay on the emotional bargaining a year early? Is he, in effect, asking her to choose family or him? I’d worry about that.

It is with no wish to be disrespectful to your daughter to say her track record with men is not good, and therefore it would be no surprise if this relationship goes pear-shaped. I hope it doesn’t — and I would also hope that man would comprehend the harm he is proposing.

But a year is a long time in messy human relationships. So it may never happen. You are a loving grandmother whose job now is to be strong.

Don’t confront your daughter. Do assure those children that their mother loves them, but that she’s just gone a bit doolally over this new bloke. Remain engaged with all they do. And, if the worst happens . . . well, all you can do is be their rock.

Just don’t leap forward towards the chasm. Stay safely back and tread carefully.

Will I ever heal the rift with my adult sons? 

Dear Bel

I’m a divorced man of retirement age, with two sons in their late 20s. I split from their mother when they were very young, as she loved to argue and fight.

I battled for contact — they would spend 48 hours with me every two weeks. Eventually, it came to light she was abusive to them and they came to live with me. I put them through private education — they were star pupils. We had a loving relationship and a lot of fun. In their mid-teens, I suffered the 2008 recession, had health problems and the boys returned to her. She pleaded she had changed and I saw them occasionally, but it took a long while to get back on my feet.

Two years ago, my calls unanswered, I left telephone messages at their offices to call me when they had time. That prompted abusive texts telling me I was self-pitying, not to contact them and that they would contact me if they wanted to.

My younger son did so six months ago wanting money, as he ‘didn’t want to ask’ his mother. I obliged and, as his birthday was soon, added an extra £200. I received a ‘Thanks’ text. When his brother’s birthday approached (just before Christmas), I messaged asking what he wanted as a present. No response.

I just don’t know what to do get a relationship back with them. I am now in good health and have a self-employed business. But they just don’t want to know me. Any advice will be appreciated.

LAWRENCE

Truly, I feel much sympathy for you and also for those two young men who have had such a disrupted upbringing. They must felt badly let down by both their parents.

Of course, it was hardly your fault that financial problems triggered your physical and mental health problems. Nevertheless they were sent back to their mother, whether they liked it or not. And you will never know what she said to them about you, nor how she treated them. I hate to say this, but they must have felt abandoned by the father who had fought to see them.

I can only imagine how angry they still feel. I would wish them both to seek counselling for mental distress and inability to forgive their parents. (Yes both of you.) But I doubt it will happen.

What can you do? For a start — open your heart to what I have written here and understand the anger and hurt which has prompted their disengagement. Then let them know that if ever they thought you ‘self-pitying’ (and maybe you were unable to help it), it was simply because you miss them — and you understand what a tough time they have had because of their parents.

Then tell them you will always be glad to hear from them and hope you can meet up when the Covid nightmare is over. For now, be patient, understanding and hopeful.

She loves the dog more than me! 

Dear Bel,

I have been going out with my partner for a number of months.

Things are going well except for one thing — there is another in our relationship.

This ‘other’ is a golden labrador named Hector, a dog my girlfriend has had for eight years. I fear I am not No. 1 and every time he is around, my limelight is stolen and I do not get much attention.

Should I accept my fate or look to a more permanent, kennel-shaped solution?

BILL

This email has entertained me so much I really don’t mind if it’s a tease. But let me assure you I do not take this problem lightly.

So I must begin with pointing out the most serious error in your short letter: you write, ‘Hector, a dog my girlfriend has had . . .’

Listen carefully, Bill — your love life depends on this wisdom.

Hector is not ‘a’ dog. Hector is the dog. You fail to understand what eight wonderful years with the love of her life means to this lady. Hector has double the number of legs, double the devotion in his huge, doggy heart and double the ability to show it in the wag of a tail or touch of a paw.

Hector is your superior in all respects: the top dog. You have no alternative but to accept this vital truth.

When I married for the second time, my husband had to realise there would be a sweet, fluffy bundle on the bed between us, and nothing could separate me from her. His solution was to learn to love her (nearly) as much as I did.

That’s the way forward to peace and love.

Oh, and try treats for them both.

And finally…  Hurrah for TV’s greatest escapism

Did you read that the latest small-screen version of All Creatures Great And Small is proving to be a hit in America?

I wonder if they have seen The Durrells too (Callum Woodhouse is in both) — and Call The Midwife and Midsomer Murders and Death in Paradise . . ?

All those shows fill me with delight. I used to love Lark Rise To Candleford and Downton Abbey, of course. I make no apologies for loving the best of cosy British TV. As well as edge-of-seat dramas like Bodyguard and Broadchurch.

I’d never seen the new film of Dad’s Army until a few weeks ago and I loved it!

I used to be a bit of a TV snob and only watched documentaries and serious dramas. No more! I look forward to snuggling on the sofa with three little dogs and the husband and watching something that helps me forget Covid and whatever else is bothering me.

Is this mindless escapism? Not that I care . . . but I don’t think so. All Creatures Great And Small might seem an escape to Americans who have plenty of problems of their own, but I believe it flogs no fantasy.

The best of Britain is tolerant and easy-going and willing to go that extra mile to help others — then and now. Is life that different in rural areas?

Our new passion is a Canadian production (three series) on Netflix, called Anne With An E. Based on L.M. Montgomery’s Anne Of Green Gables (written in 1908).

This drama is full of tension and sorrow and kindness and laughter, realistic about the meanness of children and the perennial intolerance of small minds, revelatory about how love can grow between adopted parents and their children, and inspiring in all its examples of the power of kindness.

And all that beautifully written and shot in the Canadian landscape.

It is a total joy. Watching ‘feel good’ films makes you . . . yes . . . feel good. Result!