Button Pushers

Once upon a time, maybe five or six years ago, my mother-in -law loved me. Well, okay, “love” is a bit of an overstatement. She did though, undeniably, like me. The two of us hit it off instantly. Our relationship was based on laughter. She understood my sense of humor and I genuinely appreciate anyone who thinks I’m funny.

 Looking back the real reason for her affection is finally clear. It was based solely on comparison.  She absolutely, completely, with total vengeance, hated the boyfriend before me. In short, she liked me because I wasn’t him.  With that as a foundation our friendship had little hope. Eventually the memory of the guy I replaced would grow stale and she’d wind up hating me every bit as much as him.

Just a few weeks ago thoughts, of my mother-in-law came bounding back into my head. For the first time in several years the two of us were going to have to see each other. A lot has changed since our last encounter…well, at least one big thing has changed; her daughter and I have broken up.

This was not going to be a social visit. It’d only last a few minutes. I’d walk in and pick up my son (her grandson) and then turn around and leave. The exchange was really no big deal. So why was I so nervous?

 I’ve never experienced a panic attack, but I now know the symptoms; shortness of breath, lump in the throat, a shaking feeling on the inside.  Getting into the car my mind became cluttered with memories of every confrontation, every rude comment, every one of her nasty tricks.  I once needed to tolerate this behavior to keep the peace, but why now? Why did I have to drive two hours to be treated this way?

You know what I am talking about.

No matter how many accomplishments you have, how successful you become, no matter what you do there will always be complicated and trying personalities. You simply cannot get rid of them. The world has no shortage of button pushers. For me it is my mother-in-law. For you it is somebody else.

 Clearly the blame belongs on them.  Hey, it’s not on us. How could it be; we get along with virtually everyone else. So, if there’s a problem it must be the fault of the jerks, the idiots, the malcontents and the old hags.

Or maybe it’s not.  

Halfway on my journey I started to think about all the reasons, some legitimate, this woman had to dislike me. For starters, she wasn’t technically my mother-in-law. Her daughter and I lived with each other for years but never got married. That would get on the nerves of any mother.

Plus there were words that caused pain. When my ex wanted to buy a home directly next door to her mother’s, the idea was immediately shot down; “Are you crazy? This isn’t Everybody Loves Raymond.”  The comment got back to the mother-in-law who didn’t think it was funny… but to be honest it wasn’t a joke.

Most of all I think she probably felt let down. Her little girl deserved a knight in shining armor. How disappointing it must have been to discover that the make shift son-in-law was far short of that mark.

Getting off the exit, my mind prepared for the tricks she had up her sleeve. She’d probably open with a complaint about me being early or late (five minutes in either direction and I hear it.) She’d then move on with some snide comment about my hairline. She’d make some remark-she wouldn’t be able to help herself- about how happy her daughter is with this new boyfriend.  And then there’d be the grand finale. It’s her favorite weapon, and boy does it get under my skin.  In saying goodbye to my son she’d drop the title of “daddy.” “What are you and Doug going to do together?” “You and Doug have fun now!”

 In the last few miles my hands became clammy; the steering wheel was getting moist.  No matter how quickly I got in and out, this was still going to be painful. And then, out of no where, all the fear disappeared. Without any explanation it was suddenly replaced with this great sense of calm.

 I know it sounds strange. How can a person go, almost immediately, from a total frantic state to just knowing deep down inside that it’s okay? Honestly it started with this presence. It wasn’t a voice; it was just something in my gut that billowed upwards. It made its way to my brain where the same phrase kept repeating itself over and over: “She may push the buttons, but they’re your buttons. You own them.”

I was in the driveway now and shocked to discover that there was a part of me that almost wanted to hug her. Okay that too may be a bit of an overstatement. All the same I knew I could be charming, polite, maybe even funny…it would be nice to laugh together again.

Yes, she tried many of the things I predicted and more but none of them worked. She will always be a complicated personality in my life, but even the most challenging individuals have value.

As I got into the car to start our journey back home, I thought about the contrast between the way I feel about my son and my emotions towards the former mother-in-law. It’s easy to love someone who’s loveable. Anyone can do that. But how many of us can love someone who’s something less?

 They may push our buttons but they are our buttons.

Advertisement