FORGIVING THE IN-LAW

FORGIVING THE IN-LAW

ADVENT is to be a time to practice forgiveness. Of course, it is something we should always be doing, but with the upcoming birth of our Christ child, it is a great time to start anew on relationships in our own lives.
Relationships with our own relations can be the hardest to forgive. With former friends, we tend to walk away and erase those people from our lives. The hurt is there, but not seeing them anymore eases the pain. A relative is another matter. There is the constant reminder that happens when family is involved. Take an in-law, for example. More specifically, take the mother-in-law.
My mother-in-law and I did not get along. First, there were the problems in how she raised her son. Of course, I was too blind to see that he was old enough to make his own choices by the time he married me, but I blamed her anyway. In return, she was upset that I did not pamper her son in the way a mother of her generation saw befitting.
That was the only beginning of a rough time, continuing for over twenty years. My cooking was horrendous, the house was not clean enough, my discipline of the children should be more on the spoiling end. In my eyes, all she did was paint her nails, spend her time at the beauty parlor and undo any discipline I had instilled in her grandchildren. Conversations were such a stretch that my eyes would literally be watering, with nothing to say.
Throughout this time, I was always the devout Christian, going to Church weekly, teaching religion classes and talking about what was in the Bible to different groups. I prayed daily, had endless conversations with God and had many calling me a spiritual person, an inspiration. In the back of my mind, though, I had a big, dark, problem; my mother-in-law. Here I was, being quite pious, but not so with a person who had given birth to my husband and was the grandmother of my children. I said “The Lord’s Prayer” daily, about forgiving others, yet I was going against these very words. Basically, I was a fraud.
I knew I had to change this. What could I do? Dialing her phone number, I rang her up to say hello. She was suspicious, a tone of questioning in her voice why I was calling; I would be too, if she had called me out of the blue. It was a short, but polite visit. I called her again the next day. Again, there was a bit of doubt in her voice. I remained friendly, telling her something about one of her grandchildren. I called the next, the day after that, and the day after that. Soon, the visits lengthened in time. Maybe we were on the phone forty-five minutes, maybe longer; we would lose complete track of time. Her daughters would tell me if they were over visiting and the phone rang, she would call out, “If that is Marie, give me the phone! Anyone else, say I am not here!” They were ignored as we visited away.
Two years later, she became very ill, unable to visit as before while in the hospital. She never returned home. Before she passed, she handed me her beautiful ring, wanting me to wear it. Overcome with emotion, I said it needed to go to her daughters. They all said no, I was to have it, that is what she wanted. I wear it thinking of our good visits in those years we did have together, not dwelling on the wasted time of the past.
I miss her so, especially this time of year, a season she loved. As I write this, I have a lump in my throat, tears in my eyes. This is the time of day I usually picked up the phone for our afternoon visit, where we would talk about anything and everything.
We did not have to say “I forgive you.” We knew it. Our words and love for one another said it all.

~Marie T. Morrison~