Bella,
For the past 6 1/2 years, there's been a 1,000 mile distance between us.
She writes a note each week to enclose with the letter my Dad writes and mails to us. Paper-clipped to her note is $1.00 each for my 2 children still living at home. She began this tradition when we moved away and has continued it steadfastly ever since. When we lived just a few miles from her, she rarely saw her grandchildren. Too much interference with her ways, her routine, her... whatever.
We were just there for a visit a month ago and barely saw her. She showed no interest in her grandchildren, didn't speak to them about much of anything, and made sure she was in bed by 7:30 pm, per her schedule. She gets up in the middle of the night to begin her kitchen routine, doing critical tasks like bagging up 6 bowls of cereal for my dad, lest he get into the cupboard himself and make a mess? I dunno.
I was able to do a couple of minor repairs while there... on her washer and on a cabinet which wouldn't close. The "at your service" me tried to come out strongly, but I appreciated having a couple of tasks to relieve the stress. I got the same reaction as always... more sullen agitation/anger? from her that I was able to see and fix this stuff than appreciation. It is so odd.
Her letters since we've arrived home go on and on about how she misses us.
ohhkayyy....

We have spoken on the phone maybe 10 times in the past 6 1/2 years. She will not call - I think because she knows there's a good possibility she'll get voice mail. We are not phone people. I used to place calls... and then she'd put me on hold, long distance, while she finished up another critical kitchen task. The last time she tried to do that, I said - that's alright, I have to go anyway - and hung up.
I think I've called her once since... this past winter, when an ice storm brought a tree through our roof. She always writes that they watch the weather down where we live, so it occurred to me after the power had been out for several days to call and let her know that we were alright. It seemed like the honorable thing to do...

I barely completed my little story of our adventure when she launched into this big spiel about my (very Nish) brother and his awful struggles to get his car back to the US from Europe (hissing... "he has a Jag-oo-wahr, you know") Yeah, uh huh, okay mother, well anyway, just wanted you to know we are alright.
She wants to hear about the honors my children receive and horror stories about trees through roofs are okay, too, but not nearly so exciting as jag-oo-wahrs

Whatever... it's all a collection of tidbits for the next time somebody at church asks how we're doing.
I have no interest in handing her grist for that mill or going through the motions just so she can feel like she's done her part and I've done mine. Ugh.. I have work to do on this. I can still feel the resentment. Thanks for the opportunity to blather, Bella.
Love,
Hope