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Show Kathleen Norris Says: toother Should Exit Gracefully 1 Bel) Syndicate.-WNU Feature f "A year ago, George began going with a woman I will call Louise. She is 31, a widow and not pretty." By KATHLEEN NORRIS MARY CARTER is a widow and her son George, 28, is all she has. A daughter died at 12, 15 years ago, and her husband died when George was only eight. She has lived for him. When he went into the navy she suffered, as did all mothers of sons in the services. When he came back safe and sound, she settled down to a life of complete happiness with her boy. "But a year ago," says her letter, let-ter, "George began going with a woman I will call Louise. She is 31, not pretty, a widow with boys of 7 and 5. She belongs to n large and ordinary family and when I say ordinary, I don't want you to think me a snob. They are good people, but not refined. Louise's sisters work in the box factory, her mother keeps boarders, an uncle is a postmaster. post-master. There is no real fault to be found with them, but George has been brought up among different people and it breaks my heart to think of him getting absorbed by them." "I own my own lovely little Span- ish cottage outside of Glendale," the letter goes on. "Everything in this house is done with George's comfort com-fort in mind. But when he is married, mar-ried, they plan to live with her mother, paying her board and having hav-ing their meals, of course, with the rest of the boarders. I cannot see how this arrangement possibly can succeed. My feeling is so strong against it that I have begged George to postpone his marriage until they can find a suitable apartment but, for the first time in his life, he seems entirely indifferent to my wishes. Has Hostile Attitude "Naturally this does not make me feel very friendly toward Louise. She could easily persuade him to wait. I have not met her family, but she has dined with me several times and I do not dislike the girl. However, I feel she is an utterly unsuitable wife for George. To start marriage in a crowded boarding house with her two small children as a responsibility is to doom the marriage from the first. Apart from my own heartbreaking loneliness I will have the agony of seeing that he is miserable. "I could threaten him with disinheritance disin-heritance but that is a theatrical attitude that I hate to make. He is my all-in-all. He knows it and I am convinced that he is taking advantage ad-vantage of it. "Please advise me about putting all this to the girl or telling George that his hasty marriage will put a barrier between us that may take years to break down. I am desperate with disappointment and anxiety over this and beg that you will forgive for-give what may sound selfish and monopolistic. It is only George's welfare and what it may mean to a brilliant future that causes me such bitter grief. Louise simply isn't the woman for him she is am-bitionless, am-bitionless, slipshod, happy-go-lucky and will drag him down to her own easy-going level. Please help me." So much for Mary Carter's letter. She won't like the answer, but 1 print it because it applies to so many other mothers of adored and only sons. It is time for Mary to step I ' down and try to get it through her head that George belongs to another woman now. Whatever she gets from him in affection, attention and companionship will be just so much "velvet." She has no more right to tell him with whom he should fall in love than her husband's mother had 30 years ago to control the heart affairs of George's father. fa-ther. If these jealous, tenacious mothers moth-ers only would look back one generation gen-eration to their own love-making days, they would get a revelation that actually would shock them. I am sure that if I asked Mary Carter Car-ter about her own mother-in-law, she would answer prettily, for she is evidently a cultured, charming, prosperous woman: "Why, she was just a dear! She didn't want Bob to marry so young, but she really came to like me. Bob and I used to go see her whenever we could. We couldn't go often, but he did see his mother pretty faithfully." Now ask yourself, Mary, if this much would satisfy you. Because that's what you're going to get. Louise and George will come to see you whenever they feel they can and it won't be often. When they do come it will be for a short superficial super-ficial sort of visit, with engagements pressing them. They'll want you to see the baby and to come to Easter dinner, but you'll feel and with reason rea-son that you don't belong any more in their actual lives than you did in that of Mohandus Gandhi. From now on it will be, "Georgie, Mother never sees you," and "I know, Mom, but I'm coming out next week sure thing." If it is any comfort to you to know that you are experiencing only what other mothers all except those poor enough to be of some real use to their children! go through, you have that consolation. But you asked for advice so here are two pieces for you. First, go call on Louise's family and be friendly and simple. Second, move out of that ideal Spanish bungalow and let the young couple move in. Wake up, Mary, and find your own loved and loving part in the story. "... My feeling is so strong ..." |