family affair
My family is very small – miniscule, by any standard. On this side of the pond, I just have my parents and my brother; back in Russia, my grandma lives in the two-bedroom apartment that we all once shared, and my two cousins (one of whom has a daughter) share another, smaller apartment a few miles away.
As a result of having a family tree that doesn’t branch, we are completely unfamiliar with the baggage that comes with being a part of a large family. Our friends and coworkers tell us of conflicts between in-laws, and of cousins that they don’t speak to any more. Surely, there must be some benefits, too, that come with being a part of a large clan. Heather, my brother’s girlfriend, regularly takes him to family weddings. Eugene still hasn’t reciprocated.
The Drozdetskis are completely unprepared to deal with family disagreements – to the point that my mom had to sit down with my dad and me to discuss a sticky situation, and none of us knew how to approach it. You see, when my grandpa passed away, my mom offered to bring my grandma to the US. In the discussions that followed, my mom explained that she’d have no problem being the caretaker, but the one part that they’d have to work out is the healthcare question – it’s not exactly cheap for seniors here. That’s when my mom found out that my grandma intended to leave her only marketable possession, her apartment, to my cousins.
My mom was a little taken back, not necessarily by grandma’s decision, but by the fact that she thought it was a natural choice. It seems to be a universal theme in immigrant families – members left behind automatically assume that the people that made it across the border are rewarded with cars and houses that come for free. On the surface, our standard of living is indeed better. But, on the other hand, most of what we have is bought on credit, and my parents know that they’ll have to keep busting their humps for a looong time, probably well into retirement age.
A little story illustrates this disconnect. My mom has never bought a watch for more than $10 – it’s just not worth it for her to spend more on something that can break or get lost so easily. But, when she visited Russia, one of her friends thought that her watch was worth $20K, and for some reason mentioned it to my grandma - who took it completely in stride. When mom heard about this, she was bewildered, and asked, “How did you even think that was a possibility?” My grandma, completely unfazed, answered “Oh, I just thought you liked it.” It didn’t occur to her that my mom, who’s currently working two jobs, would never even think of spending twenty grand on a watch – and if she did, my dad would probably have a heart attack on the spot.
So, we’ve got a misunderstanding, some hurt feelings – and a complete lack of experience dealing with either.
As a result of having a family tree that doesn’t branch, we are completely unfamiliar with the baggage that comes with being a part of a large family. Our friends and coworkers tell us of conflicts between in-laws, and of cousins that they don’t speak to any more. Surely, there must be some benefits, too, that come with being a part of a large clan. Heather, my brother’s girlfriend, regularly takes him to family weddings. Eugene still hasn’t reciprocated.
The Drozdetskis are completely unprepared to deal with family disagreements – to the point that my mom had to sit down with my dad and me to discuss a sticky situation, and none of us knew how to approach it. You see, when my grandpa passed away, my mom offered to bring my grandma to the US. In the discussions that followed, my mom explained that she’d have no problem being the caretaker, but the one part that they’d have to work out is the healthcare question – it’s not exactly cheap for seniors here. That’s when my mom found out that my grandma intended to leave her only marketable possession, her apartment, to my cousins.
My mom was a little taken back, not necessarily by grandma’s decision, but by the fact that she thought it was a natural choice. It seems to be a universal theme in immigrant families – members left behind automatically assume that the people that made it across the border are rewarded with cars and houses that come for free. On the surface, our standard of living is indeed better. But, on the other hand, most of what we have is bought on credit, and my parents know that they’ll have to keep busting their humps for a looong time, probably well into retirement age.
A little story illustrates this disconnect. My mom has never bought a watch for more than $10 – it’s just not worth it for her to spend more on something that can break or get lost so easily. But, when she visited Russia, one of her friends thought that her watch was worth $20K, and for some reason mentioned it to my grandma - who took it completely in stride. When mom heard about this, she was bewildered, and asked, “How did you even think that was a possibility?” My grandma, completely unfazed, answered “Oh, I just thought you liked it.” It didn’t occur to her that my mom, who’s currently working two jobs, would never even think of spending twenty grand on a watch – and if she did, my dad would probably have a heart attack on the spot.
So, we’ve got a misunderstanding, some hurt feelings – and a complete lack of experience dealing with either.
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