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Retired Royal Navy Officer Nick Crews' letter to his son and two daughters has created quite a stir in the UK. |
There is, as you would imagine, more to the letter below. Telegraph follow-ups were published here and here.
Dear All Three
With last evening's crop of whinges and tidings of more rotten news for which
you seem to treat your mother like a cess-pit, I feel it is time to come off
my perch.
It is obvious that none of you has the faintest notion of the bitter
disappointment each of you has in your own way dished out to us. We are
seeing the miserable death throes of the fourth of your collective marriages
at the same time we see the advent of a fifth.
We are constantly regaled with chapter and verse of the happy, successful
lives of the families of our friends and relatives and being asked of news
of our own children and grandchildren. I wonder if you realise how we feel —
we have nothing to say which reflects any credit on you or us. We don't ask
for your sympathy or understanding — Mum and I have been used to taking our
own misfortunes on the chin, and making our own effort to bash our little
paths through life without being a burden to others. Having done our best —
probably misguidedly — to provide for our children, we naturally hoped to
see them in turn take up their own banners and provide happy and stable
homes for their own children.
Fulfilling careers based on your educations would have helped — but as yet
none of you is what I would confidently term properly self-supporting. Which
of you, with or without a spouse, can support your families, finance your
home and provide a pension for your old age? Each of you is well able to
earn a comfortable living and provide for your children, yet each of you has
contrived to avoid even moderate achievement. Far from your children being
able to rely on your provision, they are faced with needing to survive their
introduction to life with you as parents.
So we witness the introduction to this life of six beautiful children — soon
to be seven — none of whose parents have had the maturity and sound judgment
to make a reasonable fist at making essential threshold decisions. None of
these decisions were made with any pretence to ask for our advice.
In each case we have been expected to acquiesce with mostly hasty, but always
in our view, badly judged decisions. None of you has done yourself, or given
to us, the basic courtesy to ask us what we think while there was still time
finally to think things through. The predictable result has been a decade of
deep unhappiness over the fates of our grandchildren. If it wasn't for them,
Mum and I would not be too concerned, as each of you consciously, and with
eyes wide open, crashes from one cock-up to the next. It makes us weak that
so many of these events are copulation-driven, and then helplessly to see
these lovely little people being so woefully let down by you, their parents.
I can now tell you that I for one, and I sense Mum feels the same, have had
enough of being forced to live through the never-ending bad dream of our
children's underachievement and domestic ineptitudes. I want to hear no more
from any of you until, if you feel inclined, you have a success or an
achievement or a REALISTIC plan for the support and happiness of your
children to tell me about. I don't want to see your mother burdened any more
with your miserable woes — it's not as if any of the advice she strives to
give you has ever been listened to with good grace — far less acted upon. So
I ask you to spare her further unhappiness. If you think I have been unfair
in what I have said, by all means try to persuade me to change my mind. But
you won't do it by simply whingeing and saying you don't like it. You'll
have to come up with meaty reasons to demolish my points and build a case
for yourself. If that isn't possible, or you simply can't be bothered, then
I rest my case.
I am bitterly, bitterly disappointed.
Dad