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Admittedly, the mother-in-law role
is a tough one to learn. It requires a relationship between two people who
had no choice in the matter. A member of our gene pool has invited a
stranger in to swim. Now everybody has to learn a new stroke just to stay
afloat.
It's possible for a woman to meet her future mother-in-law and bond with
her in the same heartbeat, even though all they have in common is their
love for the same man. But...usually the stars have to be aligned just so.
And the last time that happened was...uh, was...well, let me see here....
When our oldest started dating, I found myself treating all his
girlfriends as potential daughter-in-law material -- until he ditched a
hopeful candidate whom I'd particularly liked. "Look," I
scolded, "I'm not going to get my heart broken every time you dump
one of your sweet young things. I'm done paying attention to them. Let me
know when it's real."
I didn't hear from him about it for a very long time. Hmm.
When he'd been dating a college sweetheart for 18 months, I asked again.
"Is this real?" His smile pretty much answered my question, so I
quickly pried open the nurturing side of my heart to let in someone new.
He'd chosen her; I could fall in love too.
Making the obvious mechanical adjustments was easy. I bought an extra
chair for the kitchen set and awarded her "frequent diner
miles." All restaurant reservations were now for seven instead of
six. We scheduled our family trip to Florida around her vacation days from
work. Heck, we were so busy absorbing her into the family, we didn't take
time to shelter her from the weirdos at the family reunion.
Debbie embraced the invitation to meld with our family. She bar-hopped with
her future brothers- and sister-in-law. The first time she shopped for a
wedding gown, she invited both my daughter and me along. Then, at lunch,
she generously shared stories of their courtship, including details of the
day she knew she loved my son.
But despite my good intentions, my stress level rose in proportion to
their commitment. I noticed he listed her as his emergency contact when
filling out a form. She became the beneficiary on his life insurance
policy. Aside from all that paperwork, I really felt threatened when I
realized that he's eventually going to tell her every one of our family
secrets. And he'll never tell me hers. Such an unfair imbalance of power!
The more subtle adjustments required even more introspection. If it's true
that sons marry their mothers, is it only her good qualities that are just
like mine? Would his enthusiasm, a trait she loved today, simply seem
exhausting tomorrow? When they had a fight, would she stay to work it out?
She hadn't known him enough years to come close to understanding his every
little nuance like I did. She couldn't possibly love him the way he needed
to be loved.
The long-buried-mommy-voice awoke to fight it out with my rational self.
"Yeah, but, what if they . . ." (It's none of your business.)
"Well, yeah, but, if she would only . . . " (They'll work it out
themselves.) "YEAH, BUT . . . " (*CONCENTRATE ON YOUR OWN
LIFE!*)
My head reminded my heart that my son is a grown-up. I hadn't kissed his
problems away for many years. As for thinking she could never know him
like I do, I was stunned to recognize, when I thought about it, that I
knew my own husband more intimately after our 30 years together than his
mother ever will. I finally relaxed, confident that the balance of
knowledge would shift in their favor with time.
I also realized that Debbie and I had a great chance for real friendship,
and I didn't want to ruin that. If I turned all neurotic, tightening my
grip as Control Mistress of the Universe, she might respond by getting all
neurotic too -- and that's neurotic squared. I was only responsible for
the one member on this new in-law team I could control -- me.
My son falling in love and marrying didn't make me a good mother-in-law
any more than giving birth to a child made me a good mother. I fell
"in like" with Debbie instantly, but expectations that I would
immediately love her like my own daughter were unrealistic. Two unrelated
women loving each other automatically is like squeezing a size ten foot
into a size five shoe. It isn't supposed to happen. For us to love each
other, we have to know each other. And that involves time -- years --
spent in simple communication, sharing experiences of the past and the
present, building this expanding family's history together. And the sooner
we start, the better.
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