When I met my mother-in-law I went in expecting to meet Mrs. Cleaver as this is EXACTLY how my husband described her. It turns out my mother-in-law may be more like Marie Barone than June Cleaver. She's head strong, stubborn, and autocratic. I wasn't sure what to say or do; how to act or react around her. I mostly tried to do my best to avoid her while not inhibiting her from seeing her grand kids or Scott.We struck a silent and uneasy agreement; one that would not last long as it would turn out.
Diane has always been a woman who intimidated me. There's just no getting
around it. She carries an aura about her. She's kind but can be quick to
judgement; sweet but vicious if necessary. To be fair I can come off as snobby or superior because of how quiet and
reserved I am. I can appear emotionless and cold as my skills at social
interaction are severely lacking. I’m weird. In truth, we are polar opposites
and connecting was nearly, if not, completely impossible.
And then something changed. Preston was born with his heart defect and
everyone suffered. Every person who loved him bore a weight of dread that you
could never know unless you shared the same experience. It equalized us. I kept
family up to date with my blog which now enabled Diane a peek at my
innermost thoughts and our relationship began to evolve.
Preston got better and things got back to “normal”. Health was now good, I
felt free. Then last month I suffered greatly at the hands of an unfortunate
condition and the house fell into disarray. I kept the kids intact, alive, fed
and bathed but that was all I could do. At the height of my pain I literally
sobbed in the bathtub and begged God for death.
Three doctors saw me but kept sending me home while
only increasing my medication. I phoned my own mother in desperation knowing
she was on vacation and might be able to assist me. I needed compassion and companionship, but
my mother couldn’t make it. I was lost. Finally a doctor treated my problem and
slowly I have been on the mend. But the surgery left me wholly unable to care
for my kids or the house.
My husband phoned Diane. I was done. I was in so much
pain I didn’t care how horrid my house looked when she came, or how dishevelled
the kids were. I needed help, and so it was time to eat crow.
People say thing happen for a reason. In the
beginning I couldn’t imagine what that might be. Now I get it. You see I’m not
good at asking anyone for help. I’d usually prefer to suffer silently, excruciatingly
rather than whisper those four little letters out loud. I swallowed my pride
and I allowed Diane not only to care for me but also my house and kids.
Thank you, Diane.
I can never express to you how much I appreciated
your help, indeed how much I truly needed it. The kindness you showed me in this brutal experience has been a life preserver.
I love you.