In case you are still staring at my words from yesterday morning in disbelief… I am back again to blow your mind. I don’t just love my mother-in-law.
I love my ex mother-in-law, too.
It will rain on my car every time I wash it for the rest of ever because nobody gets this lucky. I didn’t get one great mother-in-law. I got two.
The day we found out Emily was going to be a Girl I think the Carter’s outlet in Williamsburg got a phone call. Ready the pink clothes!!! Pam is on on her way!! Em’s dad is one of three boys. And one of many male cousins. And finally the Worthys would have a GIRL!
Like many first time moms I had all kinds of ideas about how I was going to dress my little girl. She didn’t need to wear pink just because she was a girl. She would have a yellow bedroom. And I would never velcro a bow to her head, even if she looked like Charlie Brown. I stuck to my guns on a few things. She had a yellow bedroom. And she never did have a velcro bow.
But there was a day in the early fall when I was nesting something fierce and doing baby laundry, preparing my home for this little girl that would change my world. I opened the lint trap in my dryer and I laughed. I called Pam and I said “You win!! There is PINK lint in my lint trap.”
I had a beautiful baby girl. That wore a lot of pink. And it didn’t kill me. Or her.
Merry Christmas, Pam. Since your retirement and move to Arizona we see less of you but your presence in our life is strong. We had Grandmama Pam’s Sweet Potato Casserole for Thanksgiving. And I think I will have to master your Chocolate Delight here pretty soon. Through the magic of Skype we got to see your Santa dance and sing and I was reminded of the first Christmas that Em could walk. It was cute the first hundred times she pressed the button.
A silver cup engraved with Emily’s name hangs from our tree. It was a gift from your father, Pop-Pop, when Em was born. It was too sweet to put away in a box of baby memorabilia, too precious to leave out all the time. So I put it in with the Christmas decorations. Every year it reminds me of your grace. You loved me and your son enough to encourage us both to love ourselves and each other enough to move on and let go. I am forever grateful that I didn’t have to let go of you, too.