A grown-up brother and adult sister have quarreled. The rift had to do with the responsbilities they had to each other--and a misreading of exactly what those were. They ended up not talking to each other, and it has gone on for months now--despite another brother's attempt to be peacemaker. "They both ended up angry at him," says the mom of that failed effort.
The father is unworried about the tiff. His theory: Time will heal the wounds. They won't stay mad at each other forever.
The mother is not so sure. She sees the rift growing worse each day--the brother and sister now refuse to be in the same room as each other. The daughter, who is currently living at home, made one gesture at reconciliation. It was rebuffed, and that has refueled her anger.
Now the holidays are rolling around. Thanksgiving is a dinner the mother has always made and, in recent, years, it's been one of a few special times each year when everyone--the daughter, the two married brothers, their wives and their children--get together. The daughter has let her mother know that she will absent herself if the brother with whom she is quarreling is at the Thanksgiving dinner.
What's a mom to do? She could invite everyone: throw the chips up in the air and hope for the best. But she knows that will not work. She is sick at heart and disturbed by a wrenching choice: Invite the son or the daughter.
She has swallowed hard and made an executive decision: The quarreling son will not be invited. Her reasoning: He'll be taken care of on Thanksgiving Day. He has his wife's family to be with. The pain of the family separation will be all hers.
