Honor Your Mother

People everywhere will be honoring their mothers.

This morning I was thinking about my mother and my time with her.

She was special to me.

But then I thought about another woman who held a place of honor in my adult years.

She was my mother-in-law.

Many jokes have been made about mothers-in-law. I always resented those jokes, especially after I married and acquired a mother-in-law of my own. We called her granny because she was a super grandmother.

I was just a daughter-in-law but she treated me as if I were her own flesh and blood.

I was always welcome in her home, even when I was dating her oldest son (who could do no wrong).

Yes, she doted on her firstborn but often she sided with me on issues.

She wanted to be a part of our lives, and she was. She was always supportive.

She cooked Sunday dinners and invited us over. She crocheted afghans, and sewed clothes for her children and grandchildren, and for me. She never excluded me when she made clothes for her daughters.

My mother-in-law was a part of my life until she died of cancer.

But there are reminders of her every day.

There's a red, white and blue afghan she crocheted, and vases she displayed in her house.

The iron skillet was a gift to me when I was a newlywed.

Some of the costume jewelry that I wear was once hers.

I still have the handmade quilt she made as a wedding gift, although it is tattered and worn.

I suppose what I admired about her most was her dedication to her crippled son

When he was just a toddler, it was noticed that he was not developing normally. At that time, little was known about cerebral palsy and its devastation on the body. But, eventually, that is what was determined.

My mother-in-law devoted her life to caring for my brother-in-law. There was scant foods he could swallow, so at each meal his food was mashed with a fork. There were many foods he could not enjoy such as steaks, fried chicken, and roast.

He could eat white beans, mashed potatoes, meatloaf, puddings and soft foods, but most everything had to be mashed before he could swallow it.

In later years, when his ability to swallow became a critical problem, my mother-in-law would puree his food in an electric blender.

Without complaint, my mother-in-law cared for my brother-in-law's needs. Early on, when he was wheelchair bound, unable to walk or talk, she seemed to know what he was thinking. She anticipated his needs and was so gentle with him.

Although he had no formal schooling, he was smart. He could do simple math in his head. He played dominoes and was able to count the points he would make. But his passion was the St. Louis Cardinals. He would not miss their games on the radio or television. He knew all the players and their statistics, batting averages, games won or lost.. No one was a more loyal fan.

My brother-in-law died when he was 41. He lived much longer than most people who have cerebral palsy. I attribute that to my mother-in-law's devotion and her love for her son.

After his death, my mother-in-law was never the same. There was a sadness that permeated her daily life. It wasn't long after that, that she became ill. She was later diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died shortly after.

But this column isn't about death and dying.

It's about life. My mother-in-law was a Christian. She often read the Bible to her crippled son. Together, they enjoyed listening to gospel music on the family record player. They especially enjoyed the Happy Goodman Family, the Statesmen and the Blackwood Brothers.

My mother-in-law loved all four of her children but there was a special bond between her crippled son and herself.

Three of her children are now deceased; only one daughter survives.

But those family members who remain, will never forget her.

One of her daughters once said, "If anyone in Heaven has stars in her crown, it will be Mother."