Did you ever read Andrew Solomon’s monumental work Far From The Tree? The title alludes to the old adage “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
In this case however, Mr. Solomon brilliantly and sensitively documents the stories of parents who have had to learn to deal with children who are born very different than they are.
His book limns the lives of kids who are prodigies, some children who are transgendered, some who were born autistic or deaf.
And the “apple” has definitely rolled out of the home orchard in all these families’ cases.
There is, of course, one commonality in all his case studies. All the parents portrayed in the book loved and desperately wanted the best for their children- even if they didn’t always understand them.
Man, this really hit home for me.
I was a conundrum to my mother, who neither understood, nor appreciated, my quirky verbal gifts and creative abilities. She wanted a clone of herself. And she vastly preferred nice, sweet, good-to-their-mothers little girls who were quiet, well-behaved and always knew their place.
(I knew my place, too. Either in my room reading- or OUT- as soon as I could hit the bricks.)
Being “different” wasn’t fun in my family. And certainly not a point of parental pride. I was always questioned and compared- and found wanting. From my earliest childhood, my mother wished me to be anything but what I was.
Now, how can you be something you are not? This leopard couldn’t change her spots. (And didn’t want to- no matter how much easier my life would have been.)
So I learned to ignore the static and let my caravan pass by.
I also swore a vow that if/when I ever had a daughter that I wouldn’t compare her to me- or anyone else, for that matter.
I was firm in my resolve to respect my future little girl for whoever and whatever she turned out to be.
And it was a good thing that I swore this vow because my daughter, Natasha, is WAY different than me.
We are apples and oranges. No- make that apples and leopards.
Longtime readers of this blog may remember my daughter as the stern, penny-watching, mini bar policeman who carefully monitors every expense of mine with the nay-saying heart of a born CFO.
She has also graced these posts as the navy blue and green preppie who never met a bright color she liked- or wore. And let’s not get her started on poor little pink. She’s ruthless in her anti-pink campaign.
She’s still cringes when she recalls the Christian LaCroix cerise suit that I wore to Parent Weekend at St. George’s. (That suit rocked, btw. Natasha was mortified. She felt that I should have chosen dark green or dark navy when I made my appearance on campus, and she still holds that fashion choice against me. Don’t believe her. I looked great.)
But you see, that’s the problem when the apple is from Whole Foods and the tree is from Fauchon. There’s bound to be differences in taste.
I continually let her down in the Wedding Department, too.
Let’s look at some stats, shall we?
Mother Marital Box Score:
Hmm…How shall I put this? Let’s just put down “more than once.” And I’m not entirely sure that I am done with my visits to the altar, either.
Mother’s Business Career: An artiste. I am not a tycoon.
Again, a disappointment, I’m sure. Natasha would probably love to have Sheryl Sandberg, or better yet, Martha Stewart as her mère.
Quelle dommage.
I can think of a million and one ways I disappoint her. She’s traditional and conventional. Serious and quiet.
I love the limelight. She shuns it with a vengeance. From childhood on, she was always in agonies of embarrassment whenever people stopped me on the street to tell me that they liked what I did.
She thinks I’m “unusual” and it irks her no end. Yet I know she loves me- even if she would vastly prefer a mom who looked frumpy, haimisha and made brownies instead of wisecracks.
But don’t feel too sorry for me, dear readers.
This past Wednesday night, at 11:09 pm at a hospital near Boston, my grandson, Samuel Ross- all 7 pounds 15 ounces and 19.5 inches of him- was born to Natasha and Zachary Tofias.
Congratulations and love to all.
And heads up, my darling girl. The baby might share some of my talents and tastes. He could have a great sense of humor. Be a born writer. Love movies, trivia, dogs, cars, skiing, history, crossword puzzles and spy novels as much as I do.
Who knows? Sam just might turn out to be plucked right out of this grandmama’s home orchard.
It’s sure going to be fun to find out.
Psst, Mr. Soloman.
I get another bite of the apple!
So, the Apple computer that didn’t fall very far from the tree must have plunked Isaac Newton on the head, and ergo sum cogito gravitas … thanks Ellen for your enlightening post which certainly put the horse before Descartes. And seriously, mazel tov to your daughter, son-in-law, and new grandson!
Thanks, Doc. This post obviously brought out the best in you but this reply is making a (wine)sap out of me. I’m still too sleepy to rise to the occasion.
Mazel Tov Ellen. Nothing better than the Grand Parent Club!
Thanks, Mitch. I hope I pass the Admissions Committee!
Welcome to the club..You will love every minute of being a Grandmother..Cannot wait to hear what the baby will call you….Congratulations to you and the entire family..Fun times ahead:)
Thanks, Diane. I have toyed with several monickers- from Mrs. Ross to Gangan (Queen Victoria’s name.) I have settled on Dee Dee. This was my childhood family nickname for years. Bestowed upon me by my brother who could not say “Ellen.” This is what I have chosen. Who knows what Master Sam will say?
Mine is “Mommy Diana” (Spanish pronunciation) given to me by Santiago’s Cuban Mom..I love it and my family calls me just that!
Ole! I love this. Muy muy bien, Amiga Mia.
CONGRATS Ellen! Nothing but enjoyment from this subsequent fruit of your labor!
Thanks so much, buddy. And I swear, it was harder becoming a grandparent than it ever was a mother. I wasn’t worried at all throughout my deliveries. ( Just an idiot, I guess.). But this was nerve-wracking. Especially long distance. Have already alerted my son that when it’s his turn, I will be in the delivery room-if not in the same bed!
There are two (of many) ways most of us profess our eternal love for another. One at the “alter” when we say “… till death do us part” and the other is the “unconditional love” we profess for a child and might I add grandchild. In this forum – there should be no question which one of these dominates. Congratulations. Bring pictures to dinner.
Yes, Sir! And thanks, Jimmy. For everything.
Congratulations neighbor!!!! So thrilled for all of you! I ll bet he ll be just like your Father….. Kind of like a spiritual “replacement”
And that’s a very good thing. No matter what he turns out to be.. He will bring you so much joy, love & pleasure! Hope you will go out to see him soon!!
Send pictures….
I so approve this comment. Natasha told me that “Benjamin” was in the running for his name big time. But that it is the number one most popular boys’ name now in Massaachusetts and she didn’t want him to be a Benjie T. for the rest of his school life. We get this, don’t we, Ellen W?
Love, Ellen R.
Congratulations!!! Although the interaction between you and your infant grandchild keeps playing around in my head in so many different scenarios. I’m just a few years away from this and since I would have never have imagined what my own children turned out to be as adults, I wouldn’t even try with grandchildren. Right now , we are handling two grandpuppies from 2 of our children for 6 weeks. I thought the whole idea was you could give them back at the end of the day???
Thanks, Scott. Give who back? The kids, the grand kids, or the granddogs? Let’s see if I can find a photo of my granddog, Lucy. She is my son Nick’s pride and joy. To be continued….
Mazel Tov Ellen, from way out here in Machintoshland!
Thank you, dear Nancy. For both the congrats and the theme comment. Most appreciated.
One other thing Ellen. You may want to be called Dee Dee but it’s all up to Samuel. It may be Nanni, or Mi Mi, or Grannie(not you) or whatever, but what the first grandchild calls you that’s it. Let’s hope it’s not Do Do. I was Papa Bitchie before my granddaughter could pronounce Mitchee correctly.
I hear you loud and clear. Up to him. Thanks for my LOL this morning, Grandpa Bitchie.
Congrats Ellen to the Grandparents Club…we always like to welcome new members! My total is now 11 Grandkids and one Greatgrand child. Each one is different in their own way and all I can say is I enjoy them immensely…but the real bonus to me is that I don’t have to raise them…it is kinda fun to see my kids deal with all that goes in a circle. So sit back and enjoy!
Thanks, Steve. I’m impressed with the total. And a great grand child? How can this be possible? I still think of you as seventeen and crushing around a Wilmette with the boys. Amazing. Yes, good advice from an old -sorry- pro. I will listen up.
11 grandkids and 1 great grandkid that is fantastic Steve. But maybe you should tell the kids what Groucho purportedly said to a couple who had 17 kids:”I love my cigar too, but I take it out of my mouth once in a while.”
We ALL love this classic, Groucho-ism. Anything that puts my grandson Sam and Minnie’s boy Julius in the same post is ok by me. Thanks, Mitch. I’ll make sure that Steve sees it.
Congratulations:) just yesterday my adult daughter and I were shopping and she said , ” do you like this?” I replied, “Do you need that? Or want that! ” The elderly woman next to me smiled… And I realized those words were my mother’s words coming out of my mouth! ( read: Again!!! … ) I imagine you and your daughter have many things in common and more than a few “Ellenisms” will grace conversations between she and her children!
Thanks, KIS! (I love that your monogram is so sweet,btw.) if you’re right it’s going to come as a big shock to Natasha’s system. And that’s really going to be fun to watch. Thank you for reminding me that the apple can still roll back to the tree.
Congratulations on the birth of your grandchild. You might make another visit to the altar? Why not; you’re young and pretty and smart. What number would it be?
Herbie
Thank you, Herbie. Your good wishes are much appreciated by Sam’s grandmama. Number? I take the fifth. (Or sixth or seventh or…)
Congratulations Grandma Ellen, I have to say that I am a bit jealous. Everyone always says that grandparenthood is the ultimate family experience. You will probably be a kick ass grandma,
making Sam laugh a lot and exposing him to different way of thinking from his mom.
Lucky you !
Sherry
Thanks for your confidence in me, Sherry. I’ll do my best. And don’t worry. You’ll get your membership papers soon enough. Love to all.
Ellen, congrats. Since you went to school with a couple of young friends of mine, they made all kinds of trouble for me with a son and a daughter, who have made matters even worse with four great grandchildren. May you and yours be as blessed as I am. It’s a wonderful world. Allan.
I do know some of these “troublemakers.” And they’re pretty swell. Like the old man. Thanks, Allan. I can only hope.
Vive la différence!
C’est vrai, mon ami. Merci beaucoup. Avec tendresse, la grand-mere de Samuel.
Voila l’arc-en-ciel. L’arc-en-ciel et belle. Voulez-vous…etc.
Tres tres bien, mon vieux. C’est parfait. Et pas de “obscene.” Je suis tres contente avec toi.
{Picture a smiley face wearing a beret HERE}
Tres chic!
“JoyJoy” and I send congrats to you on becoming a grandparent, an experience that is not over-rated. Enjoy!
Thank you, David. And I love the name “JoyJoy.” It perfectly encapsulates everything I hear being a grandparent is all about. How wonderful.
Congratulations! You’re the first of us Lawler girls to become a grandmother! I’m surprised you didn’t mention Bubbie as a possible name, just for the laughs. And if your mother thought I was one of the well-behaved girls who was good to her parents, she was sadly mistaken.
824 Lawler
Thanks, 824. I mostly got grief about 812. Love, Grandmama 810
Dear Ellen:
I join all of those who wrote so much and so well before I sat down to remark that apples definitely fall far from, roll out of, or possibly even land right under that mystical tree. But I must add my great congratulations to the newest member of the Ellen Ross family, Master Samuel Ross Tofias (your grand-mother is still a little old-fashioned) and I know that whatever he chooses to do, and whenever he chooses to do it, a significant squad of cheer-leaders will applaud his every move.
Oh, I love this. Thanks, captain of the pep squad. And why do I think Henry X would approve the appellation “Master?”