jouThis is going to be an incredibly personal column. My heart is breaking, a little bit every day, and I'm having a hard time thinking about anything else.
My mother-in-law, my wise, funny, loving, mother-in-law, has been diagnosed with cancer. She's in Stage Two, and frankly, I'm scared. I feel like one of my kids, when a favorite toy has been taken. I want to stamp my feet and scream and cry until someone comes along and tells me that it isn't true. I need to have a big, down-in-the-floor screaming tantrum.
Unless you've had a mother-in-law like mine (and I hope, for your own sake, that you've been that lucky) you can't know what I'm afraid of losing. I've been married before, and although my mother-in-law was a nice person, we didn't "click." Oh, we got along just fine, the few times a year we saw one another, but like her son, she just wasn't for me.
When Patrick took me to Texas to meet his family, I was, to my very core, terrified. I had no idea what to expect or how I would be received. I was, after all, a "replacement" daughter-in-law, as Patrick had also been married before.
Our first visit was over Christmas. As luck would have it, my birthday is the day after Christmas. Patrick had told his family that I had rarely had birthday celebrations and that the day usually got eaten up in the aftershock of Christmas. On my birthday that year, Patrick and I were sent on an errand for a couple of hours. When we returned to his parent's house, I saw something I'd never seen before. They had made a huge banner for me, with "Happy Birthday Jennifer" on it. His mother made a cake. Everyone bought me presents. Not a single gift was wrapped in Christmas paper.
It made me cry.
So you see, that's the kind of mother-in-law I have.
She's an incredible grandmother. Patrick's oldest niece put it best when she dubbed her "the four-year-old grandma" because of her constant playfulness, her energy, and her innate ability to have a good time, regardless of the circumstances. She is a staggeringly gifted artist - everything from portraits to copper etchings. She has one of those mellow, calm voices that you can listen to for hours on end. She's tall and thin and beautiful.
She makes a lasagna that will make you weep for the old country, your homeland, Italy, even if you're Irish. She can jump rope and outrun me, easily, and without breaking a sweat.
She took a baby, turned him into a little boy, helped him learn to be a man, then generously gave him to me.
When my daughter was sick and I literally could not rock the child one more minute without screaming for relief, she took her from me and rocked her, endlessly, probably all night long, and let me sleep.
She sent Patrick and I on a trip to New York and stayed in my house with the twins, knowing that she had cancer and unwilling to tell us until after we got back, in order not to ruin our trip.
I hope that you have a mother-in-law like mine, if you have one. I hope you are a mother-in-law like mine, if you are one. And I hope, I hope, I hope, that I get to keep the one I have for a long, long time.
