Let the Munching Begin

My mother-in-law is with us now, spending the next week with us for Christmas. She lives near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, about a five-hour drive north and west of where my fiance and I live. I drove to her home on Tuesday, took her on errands and to doctor’s appointments on Wednesday, and drove her back to our home yesterday.

Since my mother-in-law cannot drive or is not able to use any form of transit (bus, train, plane), we have to go get her and drive back and forth when she visits.

My fiance usually goes to get her for a week’s visit in the summer and this week, too, but we had to cancel that visit this past summer because my fiance’s illness had other ideas.

My fiance still is not allowed to drive his own car, because he still has some recurring symptoms of his illness that could occur without warning, and if he were driving a car, he could crash. While I do not like to drive long distances (especially in a cage), having my fiance’s Mom with us for Christmas meant a lot to my fiance, to her, and to me as well. I want to do everything I can to make my fiance happy.

His mother was funny at her doctor’s office. When she came out of the room where she was being treated, her doctor looked at me and said, “so this is your son?” Her reply: “he’s my son-in-law, and we couldn’t live without him.” Man, that was a pleasant surprise. I’ve come a long way in building a good relationship with her. Let me tell ‘ya, that wasn’t easy. She has many quirks and behaviors that make her difficult to be around.

As they say, however, you can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family. She is my fiance’s family, so she is mine, too.

I should appreciate that she loves my cooking. Man, does she looooooove my cooking. Noisily! I’ve long given up trying to introduce what eating utensils are, or that it is polite to wait to begin eating until the chef has been seated. Oh well, I keep trying, but she still eats with her fingers, mouth open, and — let’s say — with great gusto. Loud gusto. Oh well, after all these years, I know that I’m not going to be successful with training her on table manners and etiquette. She is what she is, and we love her, regardless and always.

Here we go: let the munching begin!

Life is short: show those you love how you love them.