In my mind, B.’s mom should be a shoo-in for the Mother-in-Law Hall of Fame (the good kind of fame). At just about five feet tall, this woman is a spitfire — a ball of energy who won’t let anything stop her (including her brand-new knee), and who won’t take “no” for an answer (okay, that one can get a little tricky). She’s also a loving mama bear who will protect her cubs (and cubs-in-law) at all costs, and an Aries (like me) who doesn’t quite understand why everyone doesn’t do exactly as she wishes (but in a good way).
What makes my mother-in-law stand out in my eyes is her strength. She has dealt with widowhood, cancer, and family hardships with the kind of resolve heretofore seen in legendary warriors. She actually makes you believe that you can do it — whatever “it” is. And she’s raised a helluva son.
Do we sometimes butt our rams’ heads over who knows B. better? Of course. She wouldn’t be a mother-in-law if there wasn’t some amount of tug of war.
I love her dearly — for who she is, for the hugs she gives, and for her amazing laugh.
© 2012 Claudia Grossman