Change of heart after suggesting a two-family vacation

Dear Carolyn:

We have been best friends with another couple for 12 years. Each family has a daughter. Although we had to relocate an hour and a half away, we still get together monthly.

I asked them if they would want to rent a larger vehicle this summer and take a joint family driving vacation. They liked the idea.

Now we are finding differences in how each family vacations. We like downtown hotels, they like booking a house online. We like fine dining, they go food court. We’d prefer a couple of days at the beach for our daughter, they suggested a social justice day. I am a believer in polite, direct conversation, but am at a total loss as to how to scotch this vacation idea. I think it could hurt our friendship and I feel like a total heel.

— J.

Why can’t you alternate? Each family enjoys half this road trip as preferred, and half trying the other family’s way.

Or, one-third your way, one-third theirs, one-third separate ways, since a shared vehicle doesn’t pre-empt your choosing different things at any given destination. (And giving each other some air.)

I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that hard to back out of the vacation, if that’s what you really want. Just be loving, respectful and frank, and raise it as a conversation topic vs. a fait accompli — “For best friends, we seem to have wildly different vacation styles. What do you think, are we forcing something here?” They might even be relieved.

But I find it hard to believe you’ve never thoroughly enjoyed doing something you wouldn’t otherwise have planned for yourself — especially with people whose company you go out of your way to keep.

And wouldn’t this be great for the kids, too? A little beach, a little giving back, a little white-tablecloth, a little food court, a little sensitivity to different budgets, yes? and a lot of good emotional sportsmanship.

We can get so much of what we want streamed or served to us exactly when we want it, and middle-class-and-up kids especially have known little else; is our willingness to be flexible the price we’re paying for that? If this were my vacation, I might treat it as a chance to re-learn how to bend.

Dear Carolyn:

My father is dying after a lifetime of being the bully of the family. After one awful episode, he and I didn’t speak for five wonderful years; he ended the estrangement when he needed my expertise.

As you can imagine, I’m not sad he’s dying, I just wish he would finally die. But how do I accept the condolences of those who really do love their fathers? I’ve tried saying thank you, but I don’t feel honest. But people really don’t need to hear about what a rat he was when they’re trying to be nice. What should I say?

— Not Grieving at All

A “thank you” isn’t for the accuracy of their concern, but for the fact of it.

So, you can honestly say, “Thank you for ____”: being nice, caring, your kind words, thinking of me. When the truth is too messy for your liking, a truth is perfectly appropriate.

My condolences for having a bully where a father ought to have been.

— Washington Post Writers Group