I arranged a romantic vacation with my wife for our major anniversary, with no work or other things to do. It was a pain when our daughter tried to ruin the trip by insisting that we bring her, her husband, and their kids. It was awkward to say no after years of giving her what she wanted. I did it to remind everyone, including myself, who this moment was for.
My name is Henry. I have been married for 40 years, have four kids, and six grandkids. I am 66 years old. Denise and I had spent our life raising a family and working. Now that we’re retired, we wanted to do something for ourselves.
We had been planning our trip for our 40th anniversary for years. Only the two of us. A romantic journey to Oregon’s rocky coast, where we rented a peaceful inn with ocean views and a fireplace that burned wood. We imagined enjoying coffee as the sun came up, walking hand in hand along the cliffs, and getting to know one other without any interruptions.
Amanda, our youngest daughter, found it. Everything fell apart.
Amanda has always been good at getting people to do things. She knows how to use a conversation to her advantage. One night, she came over with her two kids. She seemed worried but set on doing what she had to do.
“Mom, Dad,” she said at dinner, “I just heard about your anniversary trip. What? What about Oregon? That sounds wonderful.
We glanced at each other. We were familiar with that tone. She leaned in, as I thought she would.
“Kids would love it.” It’s in the middle of nature, rocks, and the ocean. Don’t you normally put family first?
Denise smiled in a polite way. “Darling, it’s a couples’ retreat.” Our thoughts were tranquil and romantic.
Amanda looked surprised. Wait, you’re not taking us?
Her five-year-old ran after our cat down the hall, and her two-year-old hit a spoon on the table.
While Denise chatted, I didn’t say anything. I wanted to see how far Amanda could go to make her mom feel bad.
“Are you really leaving us behind on this amazing trip?” Amanda asked with wide eyes. The kids will be sad. They really like their Nana and Papa. I just don’t think you’d come here without us.
I could tell that my wife’s face turned from strong to doubtful. Amanda knew she had an advantage and pushed harder.
She added, “We hardly ever get to go anywhere.” You both have finished your work! You still change the kids’ diapers and take them to school. Let’s go on a real family vacation. You would help me remember things.
Then I went in.
I added in a low voice, “Amanda, this is a celebration of our wedding.” “We love being with you and the kids, but this trip is just for Denise and me.”
Amanda held her chest because I told her we would be leaving them behind on Christmas.
Dad, you always say that family is the most important thing. Could you perhaps explain why that is no longer important?
The next two weeks were awful. Most days, Amanda called. She came around more regularly with the kids. Every time I went, I saw things from a fresh angle.
“Mom, the Florida resort I chose is cheap and good for families.”
Dad, don’t you want your grandkids to think of you as delightful grandparents who took them on great trips?
“You have no idea how hard it is to be a parent right now.” We only need a little help.
Denise eventually given up.
“Maybe she’s right,” she said one night while watching TV. They’re tired. And kids would enjoy it.
“How about us?” I asked. What happened to the peace we hoped for? The love? “Is it calm?”
She took a deep breath. “Maybe we can still have that, even though everything else is happening.”
I agreed to keep things calm. We had to move our reservation from Oregon to a large room at a resort in Florida. Amanda and Sean would pay for their plane tickets, and we would pay for the room and the kids’ stuff. I thought it would be fun.
Amanda changed her mind as the vacation came closer. It was evident that it wasn’t a trip for the whole family.
Sean and she would be able to travel for free.
She called once and said, “Remember to bring snacks for the kids.” “Food at resorts is too unpredictable.”
We’re also going to the spa for a day. You two would look after the kids, right? “Bonding will be good!”
The talk was the last straw.
She called Denise two nights before our flight.
“Hey, could you do me a quick favor?” Amanda stated it like it was nothing. Could you all stay up late for three or four nights? I want to go out with Sean at night.
That’s all.
Instead of joining us, they utilized us.
The anniversary getaway morphed into a week of free childcare. Instead of leisurely walks and candlelight dinners, there would be diaper changes and sleep routines.
I was done.
There weren’t any fights that night. I replied yes, kissed my wife on the forehead, and went to bed. I called the airline the next morning while Denise was out doing errands.
“I need to switch our tickets back to where we were going.”
The agent pushed the keys on the keyboard. We have two seats in Oregon, sir. “Same dates.”
“Make a reservation.”
So I called the motel. Our old room is still open.
It felt good.
I put Denise to bed the night before we left.
“I have something to tell you.”
She frowned. What is it?
“Not going to Florida.”
She closes her eyes. What?
I smiled. We’re traveling to the state of Oregon. I changed our tickets as needed. We’re going to stay at the same inn as before. There were only two of us. As planned.
She looked at me like she couldn’t believe it. “But Amanda—”
“Will be okay.” It’s okay if she’s angry. She will be okay.
Denise laughed and put her hand over her lips in shock. “You old man.”
“You’ve always wanted a man who can surprise you.”
She cried and laughed again. “Until now, I didn’t know how much I needed this.”
While I was waiting at the airport gate the next morning, I contacted Amanda.
She answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Dad?” Have you made it to the gate? Sean is worried about the flight time.
“Sorry, Amanda, we’re not coming.”
Stop talking.
Then, “What?”
We’re traveling to the state of Oregon. “Just you and your mom.”
“Are you kidding me?” she said. Did you go? How about the resort? What about the children?
I told them, “I’m sorry you’re mad.” “Babysitting was never the point of this trip.” It had to do with our marriage. We honored that.
She didn’t like it.
“You’re selfish!” she shouted. “We can’t afford help at the last minute!” Are you thinking about how your grandkids are doing?
I said, “I care enough to know when to tell my daughter that there are limits.”
And I hung up.
The excursion was exactly what we needed. We walked along the cliffs in quiet, sipped wine by the fire, and talked like we hadn’t in years. No one interrupts. Not guilty. Just love.
Denise said “Thank you, Henry” across the table on our last night. She thanked us for choosing her.
I cried. “Always.”
Amanda didn’t say anything when we arrived home. On Facebook, Sean made fun of “some people who put ocean views ahead of family.”
Frank, our oldest son, said they went to Florida. The whole time, Amanda and Sean were too much. The kids had a good time, but the couple didn’t have much time.
Frank smiled and added, “They learned a lot.” “It’s hard to take a vacation with little kids without help.”
Amanda never stated she was sorry, but she did change the way she spoke. When she phoned again, she did it with humility instead of feeling like she had to. There was no talk regarding the trip. It wasn’t necessary.
I don’t feel bad about anything.
Sometimes, to be a good parent, you have to set limits. It’s important for your kids to know that you’re not just there for them. Your love, time, and work are all vital. Even parents can be pleased when they aren’t working.
What we got back made our 40th anniversary remarkable, not only the places we went.
We ourselves.
