I have a lot to update, but I'm too tired tonight (I was in my old classroom today!). But until then, here is my letter to Sheri in responce to one she sent me. The story is basically that Vic and I didn't go to Denver for Christmas because I was sick. I didn't go to Dad and Sheri's because it was only Sheri's kids over there. Instead, we went to Kim & Bryan's and had dinner and then helped be Santa for Avery and Drew. It was a really great night. Once William did get here and we got together a few times, Sheri completely ignored me--which is fine by me! But below is good reading. It starts off w/ my email, but shortly you will see hers (in parenthesis) with my responces.
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Sheri--

When two people argue, it is best for others to not intervene. The arguments that occur between my Dad and I are just that, between us. For you to treat me the way you have for the past two weeks (which I knew was because you were butting into my business and chose to let your feelings get hurt) and then to to play the "for the sake of your dad's health" card by send me an email filled with accusatory tones covered in "I" messages will NOT improve our relationship. I'm not sure what you thought this email to me would accomplish, but if it was to piss me off, then you succeed. If it was to open the can of worms back up between dad and I, only causing us both more stress, then you succeed. You also succeeded in turning this into being about Sheri, something you are also very good at.

Here is my response you your email:

(January 5, 2008

Dear Amanda,
I'm writing to you tonight because I have a problem.)

The key word there is YOU. You have a problem about something that is none of your business. The arguement was between my father and I. No one else.

(It's a type of problem that I've never had to deal with before, and it's extremely important that I handle it to the best of my ability because it is a problem that could have life altering effects.)

Life altering effects? ON WHO!?

(For starters, I need you to know that I love you, you are extremely important to me, and I value our relationship, therefore I decided to write, and not try to do this face to face. I was concerned that if I tried to meet with you to discuss my problem, it might create an uncomfortable situation where either of us could say words we would later regret. By writing, it gives me time to read and re-read my words in hopes that I'm clear and that I'm sending the message I intend to convey.)

Good use of "I" messages. You waited two weeks to bring up something that my father and I had moved past.

(I know that you and your father have routinely had disagreements through the years. I know that you both try to shake them off and act as if nothing happened; as if didn't hurt either of you. I know that after you've had words, within a few days you're both back to talking to each other as if the words had never been spoken. I've heard about it from both of you, and witnessed it first hand over the past several months.)

Last I checked, he doesn't need anyone to fight (or flight!) his battles for him.

(However, the words do hurt your father. As you know, your father is not as healthy as he once was, and these episodes now impact his wellbeing; they cause his blood pressure to soar, and his adrenaline to spike. For a man with diabetes, a history of heart problems and two heart stints, surges in his blood pressure and adrenaline can be life threatening.)

I know about his health. I was there for the heart problems, the stints, the diabetes, etc.

(When we learned you didn't go to Colorado for Christmas, I assumed you'd be joining us.)

You know what they say about assuming...

(But, when your father reminded you that we'd like you to join us, you told him you wouldn't be coming. You went on to tell him you were waiting for the Matthews Christmas, you didn't want to be a part of the Kennedy Christmas that you don't like Joe and didn't want to be around him.)

Waiting for William is more of what I said. But yes, being around Joe is not my idea of Christmas. During your wedding rehersal he told Lance and I "I won't play with your asses and you don't play with mine." Funny to him, offensive to me. I chose not to be around people that I'm not comfortable with. I am not comfortable with him.

(At this point your father became very angry, and as such his body kicked into a natural defense state to prepare him to fight (fight or flight theory).)

Like you pointed out, he chose to respond to me.

(He was angry to the point that his adrenaline spiked high enough to enable him to effortlessly jerk two six foot steel t-posts out of the dry hard ground.)

Wow! Glad to see he still has it!

(These stakes had been in the ground over two years supporting the growth of a tree. We'd not had rain for perhaps weeks.)

Maybe something to talk to Mom about...maybe she could ask the Big Guy for some rain...

(After pulling out the two stakes, he walked over to the corner of the yard to calm down. On his way into the house he stopped by the tree to pull out the last stake. It was so solidly planted in the ground that he couldn't even get it to wiggle.)

Well, hell, then he should have called me back...I could have told him a got my tongue pierced or something...(just kidding, Dad!)

(I tell you this as evidence of the amount of adrenaline he must have had surging though his body when he pulled out the other two. I have photos of the t-posts if you'd like to see them.)

I know my father and how he acts when he gets mad. I don't need "evidence." I also know what t-stakes look like. But the fact that you are offering me pictures is odd; the fact that you took pictures is odd.

(Amanda, I don't have to tell you, this kind of rage could easily have cost him his life.)

Then why are you? You say that you don't have to, but you still are...

(I do know that he is in charge of what he chooses to do, in charge of his own feelings, and that you can't "make" anyone feel anything. We all choose our feelings and how we react to situations.)

You say you know this, but do you really believe it? Because this email sounds a whole lot like you are accusing me.

(However, I also know that when we love someone we don't knowing do or say things simply to "really piss them off".)

But that is exactly what you are doing now...you say you love me, but you are doing something that Dad warned you would piss me off...

(About the time we sat down to eat our holiday dinner you came by and left candy on the door step. Although you may have thought your dad would be pleased that you had brought him a holiday surprise, in fact it had the opposite effect.)

Again, remember: I have known him for 30 years. I knew what effect it was going to have. Just as he knew what effect it was going to have on me by arguing with me on the phone. I was crying when we hung up. How do you think my blood pressure was that day? Or when I was walking the candy up to the porch?

He rips stakes up out of the ground, I leave candy on the porch. We handle things the way we know how. It has worked for us for 30 years now.

(For him, it felt like you were rubbing his face in the fact that you were refusing to be part of his new extended family.)

Key words! Key words! HIS NEW EXTENDED FAMILY. Not mine.

(He was embarrassed when Tiffany was bewildered and asked him why you hadn't rung the doorbell or come in to give him the candy.)

Tiffany wouldn't have been bewildered if she had remembered that my mother shot herself in the face in the very house that she stood in celebrating only 21 months earlier! Or if she knew that we were arguing. I'm willing to bet that Tiffany knows a thing or two about arguing with parents...

(Amanda, I love your father beyond measure, and when he hurts, I hurt. Christmas Eve you hurt him both physically and spiritually.)

And Dad hurt me. Vic wanted to call Dad on Christmas day because I was still in bed crying. He wanted for us to get together and talk it out. But when I explained that it was only between Dad and I, he respected me and my father's relationship enough to let us handle it.

(He'd never tell you these things, he's too proud, too strong, too macho, but I know you love him too, and I'd like to think you'd never do anything to intentionally hurt him.)

If you knew me at all, you would know that I don't intentionally hurt people.

(So, at the risk of damaging the fragile new relationship you and I are just beginning to form, I had to let you know about my problem. I want at least 25, if not 30 or more years with your father, and I'm doing the best I can to make sure that happens.)

Here's the real root of it: it's all about Sheri!

(I hope you will join me in my efforts to ensure him a life that is as long and healthy and as happy as possible.)

I lost my mother very suddenly and prematurely, which I should not have to remind you of. For you to insinuate that I would want anything but a long, healthy, and happy life for my father is cruel. I'm sure that you are not thinking in these terms, but that is what you are implying. That I might take some other route than "joining you in your efforts" is extremely offensive to me.

(I apologize that I was cool toward you during the remainder of the holiday season.)

No apology needed. You do what you need to do, but don't be surprised at my response.

(I don't hide my feelings well and I was wrestling with the best way to handle them; I needed a "time out". I needed time to sort through my feelings and figure out how to best express my problem.)

Again, good "I" messages!

(A part of me hoped you'd asked what was going on so I could get it out, but another part was relieved that you didn't ask since I hadn't figured it out myself yet.)

I didn't need to ask. I knew that you were butting into my and my father's arguement.

(What I can tell you today is that although I had many feelings at the time, the one I've not been able to put behind me is the feeling of fear; fear of prematurely and needlessly losing your father.)

What I hear you saying is that you have already had one husband die prematurely, and that you are afraid that this one will too. Like I said, my mom died prematurely. I'd rather my father not as well. By no means do I want you to read that I think those losses are the same. What I do want you to read is that we both have the same fear and the same goal.

(I realize that as your dad would put it, this letter could come back and "bite me in the ass", but I truly hope not.)

You knew this would not go over well or you wouldn't have even written that.

(I know I have no control over how you chose to feel after you read this letter, all I can do is send it in faith that my words won't be misunderstood or create additional problems.)

That's good of you to know, because, again, it is all about you.

(All I can do now is to put it in the hands of the Lord.)

Touche.

(I pray you chose to continue to let our relationship develop and to work with me to enrich your dad's life.)

And I pray that you chose to just try and be a friend rather than a parent-type figure. I pray that you stop trying so hard and just be yourself. I pray that you learn to respect mine and William's boundaries. Examples: You say, "I know you aren't a hugger, but I am." What we heard was "I don't care how you feel, I'm going to hug you anyway." I asked for you not to include "Sheri's family of 3 will join Bob's family of 4 to make a family of 7" on your invitations, so instead you go ahead and put it on your website.

(Love,
Sheri)


All of this being said. I choose to give you the benefit of doubt and chalk this blunder up to your newness to our family and it's workings. I do want to think that you have good intentions in your heart. Although I have not expressed these things to you in the past, it is probably overdo that I clear the air. I want you to know that do not hold ill will towards you. I don't ever stay mad long. I can't image that in senerios like ours that conflict does not arise, and hopefully it will just make us all stronger. I love that my father seems happy with you. I also appreciate the fact that you are interested in a relationship with me and look forward to continuing in the future.
Love, Amanda