Since I last wrote, my car hasn’t moved much from the driveway and the kids have had some much-needed down-time at home. This is always a good thing until the wiffle balls and plastic bats start putting dents in the walls and my carotid artery threatens to pop out of my neck. Is that even possible? That a wiffle ball can put a dent in drywall?
Thank goodness for Grandma’s old broom, which is still good for swatting kids out the door when the wood needs splitting and the football begs to be thrown. Another reminder to never take the simple things in life for granted.
Grandma’s broom is now permanently parked beside my fridge because after much cajoling, bribing, begging and a little, no big, shove, she’s finally here to stay. Our decision to add an apartment for her onto our existing home was born, in part, out of love and, in part, out of necessity; because it’s long past time for her to be living by herself in that big old house with all those stairs.
I know I’m fortunate. I like The Grandma (a.k.a. my Mother-in-Law). I've liked her from the start. That doesn't mean I wanted her to live with me though. If memory serves, I was sort of an uptight newlywed who had to have things "just so." Her refrigerator was way too cluttered for my comfort zone and she liked to mix all sorts of leftovers together to make casseroles (bleck). We enjoyed one another's company just fine but danced the Mother-in-Law/Daughter-in-Law dance at most family gatherings. I'd get the fridge ready before she'd come to visit and make sure all my leftovers were tossed in the garbage (and rolled out to the curb, because I'd seen some of her garage sale "treasures" and figured she might not be above dumpster-diving.) She probably said extra prayers as well that she wouldn't bump into my easily-offended little hiney or get in the way of my household sterilization routine.
But then, I had kids. Oh sure, I was still able to hold onto my Howie Mandel ways with my first-born child. His whole little world was bleached and tidy. But by the time child number three came along my fridge was crammed with enough food for a football team, plus three gallons of milk, some moldy cream cheese and an upside down pizza box. Believe it or not, I have the pictures to prove it.
But then, I had kids. Oh sure, I was still able to hold onto my Howie Mandel ways with my first-born child. His whole little world was bleached and tidy. But by the time child number three came along my fridge was crammed with enough food for a football team, plus three gallons of milk, some moldy cream cheese and an upside down pizza box. Believe it or not, I have the pictures to prove it.
And by then, The Grandma and I were quickly learning how to suck the marrow out of our rich journey together. But please don’t think that by rich journey I mean nice, neat and tidy. Our journey has become rich because of the melting together of the highs and lows, beautiful and messy, awkward and easy. My twenty plus years getting to know my Mother-in-Law have been ALL of those things. But, during those years the two of us stumbled across a few eternal truths that have become the glue in our relationship.
