Posted in Friendship

Dear Meddlers, (or “Don’t Get Involved”)

meddler mom
Controlling my boys in 1993

Dear Meddlers, (or “Don’t Get Involved!”)

I get you because I’m one of you. Like Susan Sarandon’s character in The Meddler movie, we hate to break that close connection we have with our kids. The proverbial mom-kid cord is unbelievably stretchy and tough.
The saying , “A mom is only as happy as her least happy child” could be my mantra. I’m forever trying to fix their problems or give them the best advice on how to fix things themselves. And now retirement has given me so much time to increase my meddling. I text my three sons (in their 20’s!!!) way too much: “Dinner here tonight?” “Saw this comic about a big toad & thought of you.” “Have you written that thank you to PaPa?” “You left your phone charger here” “I’m in your hood. Want some cheese?” blah.blah.blah.
I used to be their personal chef, chauffeur, and counselor. Now they only share details about extreme cases: “My car’s on fire!” “College tuition was due yesterday.” “I have a red, swollen rash on my butt.”
Over 20 years ago on a family vacation I was sleeping on a top bunk bed, when my then 18-month-old son started crying around 2:30 a.m., and in my hurry to soothe and quiet him, I jumped from my bed, misjudged the location of the port-a-crib, and crashed to the floor. My sister and her NYC friend were sleeping in the next room, and when Gayle got up to check on me, Danny stopped her with, “Don’t get involved!” Now often during family situations, those 3 and a half words are the wisest of wise. Yet when does detachment turn to isolation??
We gotta balance our meddling with our letting go.
Thomas Merton wrote,”The beginning of love is letting those we love be perfectly themselves, and not try to twist them to fit our own image.”
So I once wiped their butts, dried their tears, and kissed their bo-bos. Now I gotta learn how to step back at times. I have to let my kids face their own independence, even when it punches them in their guts, leaves them on the side of a deserted road, or fills their hearts up with hurt. As much as I love, love, love feeding them and helping them, the smile they flash me when they share their latest on-their-own accomplishment is even groovier that the thank-you smile for my latest bit of meddling.

Honestly yours,
Ginger Keller Gannawaymeddler-2016


I grew up as a crooked girl who dealt with a mild case of cerebral palsy. In a small Cajun town during the 1960s, I relied on my little sisters' support and energy to give me confidence and our grandma's movie theater to help me escape when life's "pas bon" moments overwhelmed me.

6 thoughts on “Dear Meddlers, (or “Don’t Get Involved”)

  1. Dear Ginger,
    I’m so appreciative that I get to know this tender loving part of you. Your words bring tears to my eyes. Firstly for the commitment and dedication to your sons, to motherhood, and secondly because I wish you could be my mom. 😊 Though I love my mother no matter what, I never felt that nth degree of caring that you demonstrate. Your honesty is beautiful as is your immense capacity for growth. Thank you for sharing these parts of yourself so boldly and unapologetically.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Catherine,
      Thank you so very much for your wonderful comments. I learned to be a loving mom from from my own sweet, loving momma who passed away in 2015. She loved her 4 children to that “nth degree ” you mentioned. Your supportive replies are so beautifully worded and you write with such pure honesty. That’s a testament to your own tenderness. Your words give me such encouragement to keep writing and sharing my thoughts.


  2. Going through this right now when you don’t know if your kid has joined the Manson family or is just being more independent and not texting ever hour


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