My plan to treat my grandchildren to an opulent family vacation took an unexpected turn when one of my granddaughters insisted on staying at the most extravagant hotel. I made an unorthodox choice to teach her a permanent lesson.
Because my husband John and I have been lucky in life, we wanted to do something for our family that would be especially memorable.
“Why not make it a big family holiday?” was our idea when our granddaughter Robin recently tied the knot.
We chose Bora Bora because, let’s face it, who hasn’t dreamed of visiting there? It’s like those places on postcards where you wonder, “Do people really go there?” We really do, and we decided to be among them.
This trip was a great experience for us. Three bungalows for the grandchildren and their families and a large villa for John and me, it was a beautiful place we discovered that could accommodate us all.
The bungalows were quite beautiful, each one thousand square feet with a bathroom, a king bed or two queens, and a small outdoor area.
But the villa, my goodness, there was another story. We had four thousand square feet all to ourselves, with a living room, a bedroom, a sauna-equipped bathroom, and—best of all—an outdoor space that included a pool, a tub, and a slide that led directly to the ocean. It felt like heaven.
The problems started before we were there all day. As we enjoyed the wind and the sound of the waves over dinner, Jenny, my other granddaughter, mentioned that she wanted to use our slide.
Robin asked to see the photos as she had not seen our villa yet. I assumed she would be excited to show it to her. She was rather upset. Very angry.
“You have a four thousand square foot villa with a sauna and a pool and you expect us to live like peasants? There at the dinner table, she said, ‘I want it!’
My ears were unbelievable to me. First of all, there are no peasants on Bora Bora.
Second, we believed that having everyone present was a good thing.
I tried to convey to Robin that spending quality time as a family is more important than the size of the space.
Besides, if we gave her that lonely villa, what would that say to the others?
But she would have none of it. She stormed off and threatened to leave the next day and accused us of holding money over her head.
John suggested we surrender to keep the harmony, but for some reason, I couldn’t.
It wasn’t appropriate. We just wanted to enjoy a wonderful family vacation, but now it seemed like the room was going to make everything fall apart.
I didn’t blink that night. John passed out, but me? As I tossed and turned, my thoughts drifted to Robin and her outburst about Vila.
You know, it’s funny. One moment the kids can be tiny and relying on you for everything, but the next they can be adults demanding villas on Bora Bora.
I spent the whole night wondering what I was going to do. Part of me wanted to give in to Robin’s demands to end the drama, but another part of me thought this was an opportunity to impart some important knowledge to her.
So I decided to try something else the next morning when Robin flatly refused to attend breakfast and pretended she wouldn’t join us for anything while we were there.
The conflict over the Bora Bora villa highlighted deeper issues of entitlement and family dynamics that Grandma hadn’t anticipated. What began as a generous gesture to create lasting memories turned into a lesson in humility and gratitude. Robin’s insistence on the most extravagant accommodation reveals a mismatch in expectations and values ​​between the generations, prompting Grandma to reconsider how best to handle the situation.
Throughout the restless night after Robin’s outburst, Grandma struggled with the decision of whether to give in to her demands or stand firm on her principles. She finally took a different approach the next morning, perhaps realizing that giving up would not only set a precedent but undermine the values ​​she hoped to instill in her grandchildren. Instead of assuaging Robin’s desires for luxury, Grandma tried to teach a lesson about appreciation and the importance of time together as a family.
This Bora Bora experience became more than just a vacation; it became a pivotal moment for Robin and the entire family to reflect on gratitude, privilege, and family bonds. By choosing to stick with her original plans and focus on togetherness rather than material comfort, Grandma hoped to impart a deeper understanding to Robin and the other grandchildren. It was a reminder that true wealth lies not in possessions, but in the relationships and memories cultivated over time.
In the end, Grandma’s decision to stand her ground in the moment may have been challenging, but it served a greater purpose – imparting valuable life lessons. As they continued their Bora Bora vacation, surrounded by the natural beauty of the island and the warmth of family, everyone, especially Robin, had the opportunity to reconsider what really matters when it comes to creating meaningful and cherished experiences together.