Home for the Holidays
Why I long resented visiting relatives
California Syndrome — n. [[Midwestern > originated in an Illinois family named Bianchi in the mid-1990s]] 1 the extravagant, often undue preparation and celebration surrounding the rare return visit of a relative, permanently living out of town, to his home state and local family still residing there
Usage
Our family’s creation of this term, California Syndrome, arose from arguments that swirled in the thick, lemony scent of disinfectant and ascended over the deafening roar of my grandmother’s vacuum cleaner as she prepared for one of my rich uncle’s rare return visits from California to his birthplace, Chicago. To my angry mother, my grandmother could never concoct a fair explanation as to why she scrubbed her home—apparently clean enough without scrubbing for my family’s visits—for his. Or why while Grandma cleared under the beds and behind the couch, she urged my mother and the rest of our local extended family to clear their schedules for a dinner in his honor.
Such honor seemed unwarranted. For in the years since his move to the West Coast, my uncle dutifully called only for periodic check ins or for important events: Grandma’s birthday, Grandma’s worrisome health diagnosis, then Grandma’s heart attack. But unlike my mother, he couldn’t be at the hospital at a moment’s—or even few days’—notice. And, anyhow, Grandma probably wouldn’t have wanted him there seeing her sick—although she didn’t hesitate to request my mother’s presence at the hospital bedside.
After coining this term years ago with my understandably peeved mother, I recently was surprised to find California Syndrome now in full swing at her nearby home, swirling with lemony smells and hazy dust in anticipation of my sister and her husband’s visit from South Carolina. And while Mom renovated her bedrooms and redecorated her family room, she asked my brother and me to rearrange our schedules for a dinner party at my sister’s favorite restaurant, and—unprecedented for my city-hating mother—a shopping trip into Chicago at my sister’s request.
This acquiescing to my sister’s wishes seemed undeserved. For since her move to the East Coast eight years ago, my sister contacted the family almost solely to notify us of significant personal occurrences: her graduation, her new job, her engagement. Unlike me, she often forgot to call and certainly didn’t visit for important family events: birthdays, Mother’s Day, our parents’ anniversary. But Mom didn’t seem to care, showering my usually absent sister with the same—or better—treatment as Mom usually gave me.
So the following weekend, I brandished the words California Syndrome at my parents, cowering across the table in a noisy breakfast café. I reminded Mom and Dad of my presence during all the difficulties of daily life. Of my nightly calls to exchange updates on our lives; of my frequent visits to their anything-but-cleaned-up home to cook for them or fold their laundry or just keep them company; of my simply being there whenever needed.
But suddenly, angry tears spilling onto my plate of pumpkin bread, I realized I possessed, even in the present moment, advantages my far-away, unfairly favored sister never would. She might, four or five times a year, be the beneficiary of the California Syndrome, but she could never, every few weeks, call my parents just a few minutes before she wanted to meet them at her favorite breakfast spot. She couldn’t go out with my mother for milkshakes and fries on Wednesday evenings, with my brother for Chinese on Friday nights. Couldn’t visit Mom this past weekend to see her stitches healing after surgery. My out-of-town sister won’t get to make Christmas dinner with Dad. And that out-of-town uncle—he missed weekly thin-crust pizza after mowing the lawn at my grandmother’s house. He rarely savored Grandma’s stuffed peppers or potatoes with homemade gravy. Never got to watch her favorite game show with her on the floor in front of the TV. And he probably won’t be able to be close by during her final days.
But, then, in truth, I really can’t claim to be close by my local loved ones, either. Even though they live only miles away, I’ve missed several Fridays of Chinese food with my brother in favor of Italian with my boyfriend. Although I hear detailed reports of my mom’s tennis pursuits, I’ve never actually seen her play a match. And I hadn’t seen my grandmother for months prior to the dinner party in honor of my sister. So after all the holiday celebrations of Californian or Carolinian out-of-towners, I think I’ll make a New Year’s resolution to start treating my local loved ones to some extravagant, overdue celebrations. Perhaps I’ll call it the Illinois Syndrome.
Blessings,
Does the California Syndrome exist in your family? Are you on the giving or receiving end of it? What have relatives’ locations and visits taught you about valuing family?
Posted at 8:00 AM on December 24, 2007.
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I want to encourage you by letting you know that there is a Biblical precedent to your attitude. It is found in Luke 15. When the youngest son came home, the oldest son had a pitty party. He was consistently the beneficiary of his father's presence and his kindness. Yet he thought that his brother's return robbed him of what he deserved. In the end, the older son is the one who missed out on the celebration. As a parent, I would imagine that the oldest son hurt the father as much or more than the younger brother.
If you're sister lives in South Carolina, she couldn't possibly come home very often. For your parents to make a big deal about it is only natural. Something would be wrong if they didn't make a big deal about it. They get to spend the year with you. When your sister is able to visit, they are merely trying to fit a year's worth of time into a few days; rather than being angry, jealous, or upset you may consider enjoying the time.
You mention how good a daughter you are for your parents. May I kindly say that you can't be a good daughter and be a poor sister.
What the oldest son failed to realize is that the party wasn't for the younger son; it was for the father. "My son was dead and is alive..."
Next time your sister comes to visit and your parents make a big deal about it; you may want to remember that they aren't making a big deal because your sister is coming home. THEY ARE MAKING A BIG DEAL BECAUSE THEIR DAUGHTER IS COMING HOME. And the best way you can respond is by celebrating this with them.
Posted by: Hamilton on December 21, 2007
Andrea, thanks for sharing! I am one of those kids who moved far away and probably inspires East Asia Syndrome when I visit my family. My three younger brothers all teasingly claim that I get preferential treatment, but so often I ache and wish I could be there for the everyday moments only they experience. Thank you for always being so transparent with your blogs. Even though I am not often on your end of the deal, I still sympathized as I read how you reacted. I would probably struggle with the same feelings.
It takes nerve to post your struggles on a high-traffic site, too, and receive the (hopefully well-intentioned) scrutiny of strangers. I hope it never deters you from being so open with your readers.
Posted by: TokyoGirl on December 27, 2007
Andrea, I live in Indiana. While I was growing up, we had the same, exact phenomenon for an uncle and cousins in CA. It was the highlight of the year when those relatives would come "home." And yes, my already meticulous mom would go nuts cleaning and perfecting everything just for them. I loved the vulnerability in your post and the way you just sort of mused "out loud" about this curious scene. You made me re-think being here locally now for my parents who are in their 80s without preaching at me. Your sharing caused me to reflect and ask myself about my relationships now-- so thank you very much for the most transparent post I've read lately. God used you in my life today.
Posted by: Lnida Crow on December 28, 2007
I want to post another thank you for sharing that story. I know it wasn't easy to admit to being resentful. You have a head start on those of us who just keep stuffing those nagging feelings--- back where no one can see them. I am happy to celebrate your new insight and freedom from resentment with you!
Posted by: Linda on December 28, 2007
Andrea, I was in your shoes. My case was that I still lived at home with my mother and did everything with and for her. My brothers and sisters (some lived 5 min away) didn't spend too much time with her. I was angry with them because I knew she wanted to spend time with them and they never had time to visit or call. My mom passed away last year and I am thankful that I got to have every spare minute I had with my mom. My brothers and sisters tell me every now and then how they envy the time I got to spend with my mother. I got to shop with her, have late night coffee "dates" with her. She was my best friend. I can't say enough how glad I am to have been there with my mother, up to the very end and knowing that she is at peace with the Lord in heaven.
Posted by: Mel on December 28, 2007
Thank you, Andrea, for sharing your feelings. I think I can understand your position quite well. My husband and I totally up-ended our lives when my father was paralyzed in an accident. We sold our house & his and bought a home that was accessible, then added an in-law-suite for him. I quit my job and now take care of dad full time.
At the time, my brother said he'd drive the 1 & a 1/2 hours to help out one night a week to give us a break. That was 5 years ago and we've seen him about 10 times at most. It is very unnerving when he does show up and I'm expected to roll out the red carpet to welcome him.
I truly needed the insight of 'Hamilton' who relates our situation to the parable of the prodigal son. I need to start thanking God for the time we do have with him rather than begrudging him the time that he's not around. Thanks for the reminder:)
Posted by: Spencer on December 28, 2007
I see this has touched many spots especially from Hamilton. Thanks Andrea for this post. My parents are thousands of miles away as well as my siblings and neither can visit the other very often. However, what this has encouraged me to do is keep in contact a little more even with the 3 & 4 hour time differences. Thanks for your honesty in your sharing!
Posted by: Tisha on December 28, 2007
Andrea, Thanks for sharing your heart. I have never been in either role. I strongly feel that you did not deserve the judgemental self-righteous criticism you received.
I think you pointed out your decision to take the upper road when you were dealt with unfairly by your parents. That was God pleasing. Good for you. For what its worth, I think you are a great daughter and a great sister, and I imagine MOST of your other readers do too.
I agree with TokyoGirl. Please don't let mean critcism stop you from being so open. Your honesty is a treasure to your readers.
Posted by: Jan on December 28, 2007
Like many ex-South Africans our family is spread out over the world. I recognise and have experienced both sides of your story. It's hard to be far away and be able to join in on big and small happenings. But what joy when I get to warn the neighbours that The African / American/ Canadian syndrome has struck and "Hotel Estelle"will be fully booked for the season
Posted by: Estelle on December 29, 2007
Good Article!
Posted by: Jordan on December 29, 2007
Andrea-I am now on my way home from the Pacific Northwest back to the Midwest leaving my family of 35 in a small Oregon town where I just spent 10 wonderful days with my family of 5. With the help of my sisters we surprised our parents, as I have not been home for Christmas in 16 years. It is difficult on both sides, cramming in more than two years of seeing each other in to ten days..however, being the one that had to leave, I will grieve for a few days missing the friendships of my sisters, step-brother, aunts, uncle, cousins and being an aunt to 7 nephews. I am the only one who left home, I know the reasons are beyond my understanding..but this Christmas visit was one of the best ever..as we have all grown..we have also matured..and we took this precious time to be with one another and cherish every minute without any bitterness...I will miss the day to day life with them, but I will forever have some wonderful Christmas memories! I guess our "syndrome" at last has come to an end!
Posted by: Fran on December 31, 2007
You are right Andrea,
...and I so loved the comment that followed about the biblical reference for the party, being for the parent, instead of for the son .
With each sucessive generation, it seems our family becomes more spread out over the country, and even the world !!
This year was a Christmas, when all the great, and grandkiddos had places to be, other than to be together with our 90 year old Mother. My husband and I were snowed in, so we had to be alone as well, without the family around us . She didn't like spending Christmas eve with only one daughter, and her son-in-law... the same couple that are there at home with her everyday, and who tend to her to do list, everyday ! I don't always give my sister the recognition she needs for all she is doing for Mom, and this article has opened my heart and mind to some of the repressed feelings both my sister, and I may have as well.
I think that was a common situation for many families, especially this past Christmas.
Posted by: Rosemarie on January 1, 2008
Hi Andrea, thanks for sharing your experience. I appreciate the comments posted by the respondents.
I understand very much how you feel because I have had to be at home with my parents more than my siblings. I must confess I always feel like the older brother of the prodigal son every time they announce their return.
From your write-up, I will work to engage my heart in being thankful for the times I have with my parents that the others can hardly have. I intend to put in more time too to enjoy my loved ones.
Also, from Hamilton, I intend to be mindful that the return of the "prodigal" is really the Father's celebration.
Thank you for letting the Lord use you to help us see that the emotions we have are not new or restricted to us. Also, that God's grace is sufficient to help us live victoriously through every issue that comes up in our daily lives.
Posted by: Ogechi on January 2, 2008
Whew. A topic that stirs alot of emotion. I've always felt much like the older brother in the prodigal story, as I live the closest to home with siblings scattered around the country. I can identify with all that was expressed, but must say I learned the most from Hamilton. I did not feel the post was "mean" or "self righteous" criticism but rather a kind and gentle form of correction. Very helpful. Thank you!
Posted by: Marilou on January 3, 2008
Great article and lots of good comments. I am on the California end of the syndrome. One thing that wasn't mentioned by anyone - why isn't the family interested in going to visit the one who lives far away???? I have now been far away for 36 years, and while the siblings travel (parents don't), if I didn't visit where they live we wouldn't have a relationship at all!
Posted by: Annette on January 5, 2008
I've just recently learned that my oldest brother's family has the "East Coast Syndrome" attitude everytime I visit my mother in the midwest. However, he - being some 20 years older than I - did not have to suffer through the "Left Behind Syndrome" when I was a child and left alone to cope with my alcoholic mother. I got out as fast as I could and look back only when absolutely necessary. Given that he is an alcoholic as well I feel it is the safest thing for me to do. Of course they have a grand time mocking me behind my back for all of my "city airs". For my part, I've just grown fond of my mental health and wish to keep it that way.
Posted by: MA on January 7, 2008