Dear Diary,
This morning Victoria OLeary, my motherinlaw, launched into her usual tirade about my eldest daughter. Lily, isnt it absurd? Every girl dreams of leaving this little town, studying in London, and you? she sighed, as if the very notion of staying put were a crime.
I let a quiet chuckle slip out. I knew Lily was stubborn as a mule; arguing with her would be a waste of breath. And really, why bother? My motherinlaws pleas were nothing more than a soft nudge, hoping Id say something.
Polly, at least give her a word! she begged, desperation tinting her tone. What could I possibly tell her? That she must be dragged against her will to some strange, unfamiliar city simply because her grandmother craves a shiny degree?
Thats not my place, nor yours, to decide where she studies or even whether she studies at all.
What do you mean whether she studies at all? Victoria snapped, eyes narrowing. Polly, can I have a moment of your time?
Everyone carries their own idea of what it means to make it in life. Some count success by the number of children they have, others by the size of their bank account, and some simply ignore material measures, believing a life is only fulfilled when one becomes a parentpreferably more than one.
Theres nothing wrong with differing definitions of happinessso long as no one forces their worldview on another and demands they bend themselves to fit a particular ideal. When that happens, the situation takes a decidedly unpleasant turn.
Victoria is obsessed with higher education, insisting that any achievement must be stamped with a prestigious, recognised university name rather than a modest college. She hasnt clashed with me before; after all, my husband Paul, at twentyfour, lives with his father in London and earned his degree at the University of Manchester on a scholarship. No complaints there, no extra demands. I noticed her fixation on the diploma early on, but without a concrete reason to confront her, I simply brushed it off as a quirky affection.
Some people stitch plush toys, some never leave the garden, but she loves to harp on the importance of a university degree. Everything changed when my daughters grew up. Lily, the older, rolled her eyes at Grans lectures, dismissing them as teenage drama. Amelia, the younger, after finishing Year 9, enrolled in a local nursing college, completed a few short courses, and immediately entered the beauty industry.
That was the spark for the first real fight between Victoria and me.
What do you mean she doesnt want an education? A qualification is a passport, a proof of ability, a badge of intellect, Victoria snarled. And what good has your own degree done you? Remind me, are you a merchandiser by training?
She jabbed at my supposed lack of talent, even teasing my footwear choices, and kept calling me over.
Paul, love, why is she shouting at me? What did I even say? I wondered, bewildered.
How can anyone survive today without a qualification? I just want whats best for my grandchild, yet youre enabling her to ruin her future, she wailed, tears slipping as she realised persuasion alone would not move me.
Paul, however, sided with his wife and daughters, offering his view. Amelia struggled at the nursing collegeshe failed two subjects three times. I told you that. What university could she handle?
Why torture someone who clearly cant cope with the rigours of a degree? She wont get a place at a good university on a scholarship, and we cant afford to force her into a pricey private programme. Our budget isnt endless, Paul argued.
He added, Besides, well send Lily to college next year, and Boris to school. I cant keep digging money out of the ground for a prestige that nobody needs.
He even mentioned that if Amelia wanted, she could have stayed home, smoked a cigarette with her friends for a week, then taken a job at a salon, doing eyebrows and lips for the ladies who want to look lovely. She earns decent money, so youre wrong, Gran. Times have moved on; a university degree isnt the only path to success.
Whether it was Pauls reasoning or Victorias own fatigue that softened her stance, the topic faded from family conversationfor a while.
It all resurfaced when Lily, fresh from secondary school, decided not only to study parttime but also to enrol in a university that was practically on her doorstep, a stones throw from home, far from the grandeur of Manchester.
Does it matter where I study? Im not aiming to conquer the capital. Ive visited London a few times and its enough to know I dont want to live there, Lily declared. We live in a decent market town; we have everything we need. Id rather work remotely in the future, perhaps settle in a small coastal village.
Those words shattered Victorias composure.
Polly, you must influence her. If you keep indulging this, there will be no bright minds left in the family, she rasped. Not only is the older daughter a burden, but Lily, looking at her, I feel shell slip through my fingers.
Before Lily could finish her retort, Amelias voice cut in.
So thats your opinion of me, Gran? You call me a burden? Why do you keep calling me that every time theres a chore to do or groceries to buy? How do you manage to deal with someone like me? And how humiliating must it be for you to take the money and things I give you?
What things? I asked, genuinely puzzled. I never meddled in Amelias finances; her occasional help buying a kettle or a microwave never seemed a big deal. I didnt think I was aiding a nonloving gran. I was just… supporting.
Amelia shot back, Your higher education, Gran, should stay in the shop buying groceries, not in some lofty lecture hall.
At that point I demanded Victoria leave our home and never return. Paul, hearing his mothers outburst, stood firmly with me and cut off contact with her altogether. He explained that theres a difference between being overly fixated on a goal and using that fixation to insult ones own grandchildren.
Victoria tried to make amends a few times, but eventually gave up. Amelia and Lily no longer answer her calls, and I keep my distance as well. Paul and his brother Boris still meet her on neutral ground, yet they havent spoken about any future university plans for the grandchildren.
Perhaps she will learn from her mistakes, and having lost two grandchildren, she might still keep a relationship with her sons third child.
Only time will tell.
