Reservations Over Scheduling a Guilt Trip Back Home

Anxiety generated by the news has started me thinking about 1995 vacation plans. All right, that wasn’t the reason; it was the phone message that said, “Get outta town, ya bum! Yer column stinks!�

Filing that under “Food for Thought,� I started casting about for quiet, restful vacation venues. I imagined biking in Banff or lolling in Cancun. Perhaps a walk through a Gaelic forest or a boat ride down the Amazon.

I settled on a visit to see friends and relatives.

What’s the matter with me? Why, when I close my eyes and spin the globe to find a vacation spot, does my finger always land on “Family and Friends�?

The answer probably involves a syndrome with a German doctor’s name attached to it and which is covered extensively in textbooks on human psychology.

Don’t misunderstand. I lo-o-o-ve my friends and family. I can’t wait to see them. They can’t wait to see me. We repeat that endlessly in the weeks before my trips home.

I called a married couple last week to let them know I’d be coming in a few weeks. I’ve known the guy for 20 years and his wife for the last dozen or so. She answered the phone.

“Hey, I’m coming to town in a few weeks.�

Pause on her end to bait the hook. “Will we see you this time?�

She tosses the line effortlessly, and I bite. I say, “You saw me last time. You’ve seen me every time I’ve come to town for the last nine years. Why would you ask that?�

“Don’t get defensive,� she says, beginning to reel me in. “I was just wondering if you could fit us into your schedule. You’re always so busy with your family.�

I consider apologizing profusely for having a family.

“I’m not defensive,� I say. “I would humbly suggest that this is my vacation and I’d like to have a little control over how I spend it. I’ve only got so many days in town and I can’t see everyone at the same time. When you take your vacation, you can spend it the way you want.�

“OK, Your Highness,� she says. “Should I call a few people and tell them you’re coming or would that undermine your control?�

Oh, she’s good. Very good. “Great,� I say. “The more the merrier.�

Then I call my brother. “Hey, looks like I’ll be coming home in a few weeks.�

Pause on his end. “Any chance you’ll stop by and see us?�

“What do you mean by that?�

“Nothing,� he says. “You know how it is, you’re always so busy with your friends when you come back.�

People spend years in therapy learning how to respond to family remarks like that, but I fend for myself. “Of course, I’m coming over. What do you think I come back for? I probably won’t even tell my friends I’m in town.�

“You don’t have to get upset,� he says.

“Who’s upset?� I say, the color rising in my neck.

At the end of the two conversations, I realize it’s happening again. I’m losing control of my own vacation.

You’d think a smart guy like me could figure this out. It’s not like I don’t go through it every year. And yet, it seems to be a problem without a solution. That knowledge comforts me.

“Well, just don’t come home on your vacation,� Mom says, trying to be helpful. (Is it my imagination or does she ever-so-slightly emphasize the word “home� when she says that?)

“No, that’s the point, Mom. I want to come back, I just don’t want to feel scheduled every quadrant of every day. And I don’t want to feel guilty.�

What a dreamer I am. Is there any point to this life if it isn’t to feel guilty about something? Why should something as trifling as a vacation disrupt a healthy guilt complex?

This year, I’m going to try a new tack. I’m going to embrace the conflicts as inevitable and quit looking on guilt as a bad thing. Indeed, I’m setting my sights on a guilt-ridden vacation.

This year, when someone says, “Gee, I guess you have other friends more important than us,� I’m going to reply, “No, you’re wrong. You’re my best friends, and I should be consigned to hell for treating you so poorly on my vacation. How could I be so damn thoughtless?�

You know what, I feel more relaxed already.