Dear Ann Landers: Your advice to “Kentucky Mom” to get her daughter into counseling was way off the mark. Her irresponsible adult daughter had moved into Mom’s house, along with her young child. The daughter refused to help out in any way, and Mom was at the end of her rope. Instead of telling “Kentucky” to put up with it for the sake of the kid (which you did), you should have advised her to replace the macaroni in her spine with sturdier stuff and boot that daughter out on her butt.
“Kentucky” is an enabler in a co-dependent relationship, and her daughter needs to take responsibility for her own children and her own life. It is “Kentucky” who needs counseling to find out why she feels responsible for someone else’s mess.
I have seen it too often — a woman dumps her kids on her mother, her grandmother or some other kind-hearted dolt who, because of some pathological need to be needed, takes them in, and the kid’s mother is conveniently off the hook.
Until “Kentucky’s” daughter is the only one responsible for her bills, her home and her child, she will never shape up. She knows she will always have a subsidized life “for the sake of the child.” It’s this kind of thinking that has gotten our welfare system into the multigenerational mess it has become.
Disgusted in Elmont, N.Y.
Dear Disgusted in Elmont: I cannot argue with a single point you have made. The only hitch, however, is if the daughter is a slob and a deadbeat and gets tossed out of the house, her innocent child will suffer. This puts Grandma between a rock and a hard place. I cannot condone punishing a child to teach the mother a lesson, and often, the lesson doesn’t register.
There’s never an easy solution to a mess like this. I opted to give the slob another chance, and I hope it will work.
Dear Ann Landers: I have kept a copy of this essay ever since I first saw it in your column. I hope you will print it again.
Longtime Iowa Reader
Dear Iowa: With pleasure. Here it is:
Life Begins at 80 by Frank Laubach
I have good news for you. The first 80 years are the hardest. The second 80 are a succession of birthday parties.
Once you reach 80, everyone wants to carry your baggage and help you up the steps. If you forget your name or anybody else’s name, or an appointment, or your own telephone number, or promise to be three places at the same time, or can’t remember how many grandchildren you have, you need only explain that you are 80.
Being 80 is a lot better than being 70. At 70, people are mad at you for everything. At 80, you have a perfect excuse, no matter what you do. If you act foolishly, it’s your second childhood. Everybody is looking for symptoms of softening of the brain.
Being 70 is no fun at all. At that age, they expect you to retire to a house in Florida and complain about your arthritis, and you ask everybody to stop mumbling because you can’t understand them. (Actually, your hearing is about 50 percent gone.)
If you survive until you are 80, everybody is surprised that you are still alive. They treat you with respect just for having lived so long. Actually, they seem surprised that you can walk and talk sensibly.
So please, folks, try to make it to 80. It’s the best time of life. People forgive you for anything. If you ask me, life begins at 80.
———-
Planning a wedding? What’s right? What’s wrong? “The Ann Landers Guide for Brides” will relieve your anxiety. Send a self-addressed, long, business-size envelope and a check or money order for $3.75 (this includes postage and handling) to: Brides, c/o Ann Landers, P.O. Box 11562, Chicago, Ill. 60611-0562. (In Canada, send $4.55.) To find out more about Ann Landers and read her past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com.
