I couldn’t understand why my wife dreaded her mother’s visit until she arrived and seized control of our lives.
When my motherinlaw, Miriam Clarke, called to say she was coming to stay a few days, I saw Poppy Harris tighten like a spring.
It made no sense. Miriam lived alone in York and rarely made the trek to our quiet cottage in the Lake District. I imagined it would be a pleasant family weekend.
But as the day drew nearer, Poppy grew more on edge.
Why are you getting so worked up? I laughed, trying to ease the tension. Shell be here a couple of days, she’ll see the kids, have a cuppa it cant be that bad.
Poppy stared at me with a weary, resigned look.
You dont know her like I do, she whispered.
At that moment I thought she was overreacting.
I had no idea what was about to unfold.
The invasion
Miriam arrived with two massive suitcases, as if she intended to move in for the year. She didnt even pause for a kiss before stepping inside, scanning our home with the clinical eye of an inspector measuring everything against her own standards.
At first everything seemed normal. She enveloped us in tight embraces, handed the children tinny gifts, and placed a bag brimming with homemade jam, biscuits and readymade pies on the kitchen table.
I told myself Poppy was simply being paranoid.
Then the next morning came.
And our home was no longer ours.
This is your coffee? What a horror! How can you drink something so bitter? she exclaimed, watching me sip from my mug.
I smiled, assuming she was joking.
She was only getting started.
These curtains are dreadful! They make the room look gloomy. We need new ones, pronto.
Why have you put the sofa there? It makes no sense! The whole layout has to be redone.
Do you really not know how to wash dishes properly? First hot water, then scrub, then a final rinse!
Within hours she had taken over the house, upending our routines and imposing her own rules.
Poppy remained silent, but I could see the strain of holding back a protest.
Miriam didnt intend to stop there.
Déjà vu
The scene reminded me of an episode a few months earlier with Poppys younger sister, Evelyn Harris.
Miriam had visited Evelyn in Bristol, planning to stay two weeks, yet she was back in York after only four days.
We wondered why. Evelyn was always gentle and accommodating, never complaining.
The answer became clear.
Miriam had behaved exactly the same way there: critiquing the childrens upbringing, rearranging the kitchen, dictating how Evelyn should run her life.
Evelyn could not endure more than a few days. She quietly packed a bag, bought a train ticket, and saw Miriam off at the station without a word.
Now the pattern was repeating.
Only this time we were trapped.
The point of no return
After four days the tension was unbearable.
I came home from work to find Poppy sitting at the kitchen table, eyes hollow.
I sat opposite her.
I cant take it any longer, she murmured.
That morning Miriam had crossed every line.
Are you serving your husband a proper breakfast? Just cereal? Thats a childs meal!
You never call your mother! A daughter must look after her mum!
Ive been thinking what if I moved in with you? Im alone in York; youre my family now
It was too much.
We realized that if we did nothing, she would never leave.
The next day we summoned every ounce of courage and told her it was time to go.
She froze.
Oh, I see Im a bother. Youre kicking me out, just like Evelyn did, right?
We tried to explain that we needed our own space, that we were exhausted.
She would hear none of it.
In silence she closed her suitcases and walked out, not even saying goodbye.
The calm after the storm
When she was gone, an eerie quiet settled over the cottage.
Poppy and I sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea in muted company, still reeling from the past week.
Do you think shell ever forgive us? she asked softly.
I sighed. I have no idea.
For the first time in days I felt a sliver of relief.
A neverending circle
A week later Evelyn called.
I cant believe you did that to Mum! she exclaimed, outraged.
Poppy and I exchanged a look.
The irony was thick.
When Miriam stayed with Evelyn, she couldnt bear more than four days before sending her back.
Now we were accused of doing the same.
We sat in stunned silence, each lost in thought.
Do all parents become this way as they agemore intrusive, more demanding, more oppressive?
And the most terrifying question of all
Will we one day become like her?
