The Mother-in-Law

by Sally Hepworth

Your mother was my life partner, he always says, and a life partner is for life.

The problem is it’s so easy for a mother-in-law to get it wrong. It seems there is an endless list of unwritten rules. Be involved but not overbearing. Be supportive but don’t overstep. Help with the grandkids, but don’t take over. Offer wisdom but never advice. Obviously, I haven’t mastered this list. The sheer weight of the requirements makes it intimidating even to try. The most frustrating part is that it’s nearly impossible for a father-in-law to mess it up. He has to be welcoming. That’s it.

it. It reminds me of the way he used to look when our kids were newborns and not sleeping, when he would appear in the doorway and beg to go back to sleep “just for half an hour” despite the fact that I was the one who’d been up most of the night.

After all, when you’re drowning and someone offers you a life raft, you don’t check it for punctures before climbing aboard.

Some people jumped in and tried to save someone who was in trouble; others did anything they could to save themselves.

They say little boys love their mothers, and I think there is something to it. Little girls love their mothers, too, of course, but a little boy’s love for his mother is pure, untainted. Boys see their mothers in the most primal way, a protector, devotee, a disciple. Sons bask in their mothers’ love rather than questioning it or testing it.

We’re our children. Our grandchildren. Our great-grandchildren. We’re all the people who will go on to live, because we lived. We are our wisdom, our intellect, our beauty, filtered through generations, continuing to spill into the world and make a difference.

could have written more, but in the end, there’s really only two pieces of wisdom worth leaving behind. I worked hard for everything I ever cared about. And nothing I ever cared about cost a single cent.