My Grandma Deaton lived some four hours away when I was in college.
At that time, I was not only a student at the University of Michigan, but I had long-since been a full-time resident of Washtenaw County.
Now that I stop and think about it, Grandma wasn’t all that keen on the fact that I lived here and she lived there. By the way, that’s exactly what I must do: Stop, and think about it.
Furthermore, my perceptions notwithstanding, Grandma always thought that I was never truly “home” unless I was where she lived. She was demonstrably excited when I came, a bit sad when I left, and I always felt absolutely comfortable and “at home” throughout each time I was with her and my grandpa.
So it’s still a foreign concept to me whenever I hear one parent say to the other that their child “is coming home with me!” What’s up with that? Yeah, your home is your home, and when the little munchins are there, it’s their home, too. Kudos to you for making it feel to them like it is.
But it’s not helpful to speak of it in terms or tone that makes it sound like a weapon (vis-à-vis their other parent).
Nor to hear any less-than-ideally phrased information as such.
Grandma Deaton wouldn’t ever have meant her loving encouragements for me return there as a pejorative. On the other hand, yeah — she was very clear that Ann Arbor and here ’bouts certainly was not home for me.
Don’t tell my fellow alumni at the University of Michigan, but that’s never bothered me. I know what was in her heart.
Off-Site Reference
“When did ‘Welcome home!’ become a pejorative?” / August 10, 2009 / Michigan Divorce Negotiation (accessed August 9, 2024)