For kicks someday when you have nothing to do, try a web search on “mother-in-law.” Jokes abound! Mothers-in-law, I suppose, make easy targets — much safer than wives (or husbands). I have had two mothers-in-law. In spite of that fact, I can’t recall telling a single joke about either of them. In fact, I was (and still am) rather fond of both of them.
Amy’s mother lived far away from us, so our time together was infrequent and brief. Oh, yeah — the marriage itself was Hollywood-like in duration, too. Nevertheless, I got along well with Amy’s mom (Joan). It seems that she and I both have an affinity for Edna St. Vincent Millay, 2oth Century American poet. Like me, Joan also fancies herself somewhat of a “word smith.” Our common bond, then, was (other than an affection for Amy) our shared nerdiness.
My first wife was Sharon. It was that union that produced Emily, our daughter and constant source of happiness. Sharon grew up here in Jacksonville, but we met in graduate school in Louisville, KY. I first met her mother, Marilyn, in the spring of 1988 when I visited Jacksonville for the first time. I liked her immediately because I could make her laugh — something she does easily. I was the consummate doofus at the time, and she took me in stride. A month later, I proposed to her daughter. Shortly thereafter, I called Marilyn from Louisville and bravely called her “Mom.” She laughed and laughed. Within a week, I had a nicely handwritten letter from her saying how much that “Mom” had meant to her. I still have that letter somewhere. Sharon and I have been divorced for some 13 years now. Still, as recently as two hours ago, I called Marilyn “Mom.”
I could tell many stories about this woman and her influence on my life (and Sharon’s, and Emily’s) for the past twenty years. Another time, perhaps. We just learned a few weeks ago that Marilyn has cancer — lymphoma. I saw her in the hospital a little over a week ago. She didn’t laugh at all, and that is how I knew just how poor her condition was. Treatment is failing, it seems. This morning, I wrote her a note telling how much she has meant to me. After all, in twenty years, I have failed to do so.
I had “that talk” with my daughter last night, not wanting her to bottle her feelings up — a family tradition, it seems. Marilyn has been so much more than a grandmother to Emily. She has been babysitter, nurse, teacher, friend, and so on — on nearly a daily basis for Emily’s entire life. Emily surely knows that, short of a miracle, her grandmother’s time with us seems to be shorter than we thought even a week ago. I wish I knew how to prepare her for that, but I don’t. She did cry last night, and she said that her mom is a “basket case.” So the grieving has started. That is, I think, a positive thing. None of them should look back with any regrets as they have always been openly loving and have spent untold amounts of time together. Again, that is a positive thing. The pending void, however, will be titanic.
To my readers — as you mediate, pray, think or whatever you do, lift up a loving thought for Marilyn — and for Emily and for Sharon and the rest of the family as the source of their strength for so long is now in need of theirs (ours). Appreciate your loved ones today. Life can change tomorrow.
Updates to follow.
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