Thursday, April 2, 2020
I lost my mother-in-law this week. Well… I didn’t actually lose her, she passed away. Or as my mother would undoubtedly prefer I say – she died (because that tells it like it is in plain English).
To be entirely correct, she wasn’t really my mother-in-law since the divorce. But why quibble? The point is, my heart is broken.
This amazing graceful woman, Lorraine – or still Mom to me:
- taught this ignorant Midwesterner that pasta is actually “macaroni” and the accompanying sauce is “gravy”
- watched over and effectively raised my daughter while I commuted into the city 5 days a week – no words can express gratitude for such a gift (!!)
- was positively (and often charmingly) Victorian in some respects, while at the same time being thoroughly modern and a fierce defender of women’s rights
- was most comfortable at home – a true homebody – but at the same time a well informed and caring global citizen
- was creative and resourceful, making a beautiful home with limited resources and a crafty hand
- had seemingly boundless energy and was always thinking of her next project (after recently coming out of heart valve replacement surgery, she had plans to paint the bathroom!)
- was passionate about family and keeping tradition – many a holiday (ok, every holiday) she stayed up half the night to prepare the family dinner and sometimes (often) nodded off while the rest of us enjoyed the fruits of her labor
- opened her home and her heart to everyone, without judgment
Lest you think I’m suggesting she was perfect, you should know that she had a bit of a lead foot and (gasp!) sometimes overcooked the pasta. Or should I say macaroni?
Rest in peace Mom – my heart is heavy today but I will be uplifted by your memory all of my days.
