I didn’t take the time to blog last weekend because my mother-in-law was visiting, but it gave me the idea to blog about mother-in-laws.
I have had three mother-in-laws in my lifetime, I suppose, I dated a guy for four years, was married for five and have now been living with Cavan for 12 years.
My first mother-in-law was British and mostly not bad, although in the end she seemed to really dislike me. Phil and I had been dating for a while when I moved about an hour away to finish college. When I finished the year in Ottawa, I moved to a nicer apartment and settled into a job as a database analyst. Near the end of my first year of working, Phil moved in with me, while he looked for an apartment for both of us. The idea was that we could find a place a bit bigger, but since we both had really good jobs, we could put money away to buy a sailboat. I wasn’t much into sailing, but Phil was
That story ended when he went home to pick up a moving truck and move his stuff into the new place and then pick up me and my stuff in the afternoon to move me and my stuff. Well, he was hours late and not being in the times of cell phones just yet, I had no idea what was going on, To make a long story short, he mother had talked him out of having me move in with him. I was stuck scrambling to find storage for my stuff, while I found a new place to live. That was the end of that relationship.
My next mother-in-law was kind of a gruff Irish woman, but I thought I could deal with that. I was wrong. I think I blogged about how my relationship went with her son, my husband Gary—after he convinced me it was time to have kids, he cheated on my both times I was pregnant and then left me for that woman, when our youngest was four months old. So, to the mother-in-law issues. I didn’t care how I was treated as long as she was good to my daughters. At some point, the girls felt they couldn’t continue a relationship with their father because of all the negativity and I felt that as uncomfortable as it was, they should still visit his parents. The last conversation with my mother-in-law, after my usual pleasantries, went like this: me: “I thought you would like me to bring the girls to visit,” her: “They know where to find me!” That was the end of that.
That brings me to my latest mother-in-law from the Isle of Man, who is lovely, but she has Alzheimer’s. When Cavan’s father died, we had to move her into a home. She isn’t that bad yet, but she cannot live alone. She is almost to the point where she can no longer visit us, as it just seems to be too much for her. Because she speaks to herself, while she was getting ready here one morning last weekend, I got to hear: “I wish I could find something that is mine!” and “I hate this place!” I am not taking it personally, of course, and I know that there isn’t much I can do to make it better for her. She likes to be as independent as possible, so I don’t like to intervene much. It breaks my heart to see her so frustrated.
I pray for her to manage as much as possible. We just need to help her when we can, for as long as she is with us. So that is my third mother-in-law, a lovely, but challenged lady.
So, blessings to everyone! It is a beautiful day here in the lovely town of Cobourg and I pray that wherever you are, you are having a wonderful day as well! God bless!


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