Two-family vacation could prove to be learning experience

Q. 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.

A. 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 relearn how to bend.

Q. 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. 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.

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