Unexpected

It's finally time for me to sit down and write that blog post.  The one about Grammy, better known to me as MIL.  I've got 5 million things to say, and don't know how to write it all down.  When I was introduced to Colleen it was an instant connection.  She was so darn kind and welcomed me in so graciously.  I remember going to my first military holiday party, and I was insanely nervous.  Russell was so handsome, and I had never met any of his buddies before.  I was going with his Mom, and that added another layer of "holy crap....what is going on...." nervousness.  I started sweating like crazy, and this was the first of my many bonding experiences with Colleen.  She took me into the bathroom and helped powder my pits up so that I would not embarrass myself in front of all of Russell's army friends.  This solidified my commitment to be the best darn daughter-in-law that I could be. 

One of my favorite MIL stories was our trip to the Tetons.  Russell, Colleen and I packed up and headed to do some amazing backcountry hiking.  What I loved is that Colleen was up for this, despite not doing anything like this before.  After the first day, she had a breakdown.  A crying, sad, defeated breakdown.  I can still picture her on the wooden bridge looking so tired and sore and unsure how she would get through this.  We divided up her things and pretty soon we were all up and hiking again.  On day 3 we had an amazing story that involved the shovel, but perhaps that isn't necessary to write down.  Ask me about it sometime!  It would continually make Russell, MIL and I giggle when we would talk about it.

MIL always made me the most thoughtful gifts.  The necklace with my mom's pearls, the pillow of my mom's wedding dress, a necklace with special trinkets on it, purses galore, beautiful hats/scarves, and the most precious quilts.  Her first quilt she made me she wrote her infamous note on it.  It said something to like, "Whenever you wear this quilt around you, I hope you feel my love."  I never knew how special that was until the last few months. 

Her advice.  When she stayed with us in the summertime we had "coffee chats."  It was when the kids were on their ipads in the AM, and we both had our coffee and were sitting at the dining room table.  We talked about EVERYTHING.  Her past life, marriage, my work, her work, school, kids, being a mom, goals, future ideas, creative endeavors, alone time, together time, date nights, love, the difference between women and men, siblings, family, how to make it all work, saying "sorry", and so much more.  Even though MIL was my mother-in-law and Russell's mother, what I loved is that she treated me like her own daughter.  I could candidly talk about my marriage and my struggles, and she listened and loved me no matter what.  I still remember a time that I was struggling with something very big, I went down and told MIL that I just needed a hug.  She held me while I cried and let me know that EVERYTHING was going to be okay.  She had that the same thing that Russell has with me, where I completely believe them.  No matter how bad things might be, I trusted them with all my heart. 

The porch.  Often times I think I got the benefit of being a daughter/counselor to MIL.  She seemed to work through a ton of things since I knew her.  In our house in Lincoln we had this back porch and for whatever reason that became known as the "crying porch".  MIL would get into a big discussion of something she was working on overcoming in her life and without a doubt tears would come.  I would hug her, Russell would too, and then often there was cryinglaughing that would ensue.  It was so sweet to see her work on these roadblocks.

She got it.  That is one thing Laurel and I talked about after her death.  MIL got it.  She understood what it was like to be up for days on end with a sick kid, or a new baby.  She understood what needed to happen when you had a nursing baby that she was watching.  You didn't have to explain to her to hold the milk, because I was barely keeping up with pumping.  She understood when you and the Mr. were struggling for connection.  She understood how easy it is/was to lose yourself in motherhood and wifeyhood, and not remember who the heck you were anymore.  And the beautiful thing about her was that she did whatever she could do to help me (and Laurel) during this hard time in our life.  She held the babies, enabled the date nights/vacations, gave the hugs, prepared the food/coffee/alcohol.  She knew better than me, better than anyone else about how hard things got.  She was as selfless as they come.

The card.  The last card I got from MIL was a birthday card.  It said something like, "I love that you are part daughter and part friend.  The beauty of you as a daughter-in-law."  YES! YES!  Exactly.  That is how I felt.  She was more than a MIL to me.  She was a mother, she was a friend.  We didn't have a complicated past.  We just had this awesome dude that she mom-ed and I married, and then we had so much more!  When we got the news about her death, I was overcome with sadness.  All the grief of my past losses compiled with this horrendous loss took my breath away.  There was a discussion about the plans....Russell was going back home with his siblings.  I immediately wanted to go with, but didn't want to step on any toes.  Luckily, Russell and his siblings welcomed me along.  I started going through all the last forms of communication I had with MIL.  Our last email exchange was about planning our trip to go see PINK in concert!  We both loved her and how independent and girl-power she was!  I then went back into our emails.  I had not remembered how much we emailed back and forth before kids.  So many emails....so much of them were her encouraging me.  She encouraged me to be funky and creative and to not care about what others thought.  She encouraged me to do whatever I wanted (and Russell) for our wedding, because in the end it was OUR wedding.  She and I LOVED to plan and many of the emails included discussing the details of our next visit.  That was something we enjoyed together.  We would get out the calendar or a piece of paper and go to town on planning.  We loved that about each other!

When I was back in Nebraska, after she died and before our kids joined us, I had time to just be in her studio.  This was a very familiar place to me.  When we would go back to her place, I would spend so much time listening to her talk about her newest projects.  I would love when she would bring out her rolls of cloth, filled with her newest jewelry.  I would carefully examine them, and ask her about certain pieces and where she got her trash-to-treasure pieces.  I loved to see the newest crazy quilt work.  So that is what I did to work through the waves of grief, I just spent time in her chilly craft room.  I was in their for hours.  Just looking.  Looking through her beads, her scraps of materials, her stuff.  I searched for my mom's pearls that she kept, because she was going to making a matching necklace for Dempsey.  I finally found them, and with help from Youtube, I created that necklace myself.  I used all of MIL's tools to create.  There was something so peaceful about this, and I truly believe it helped me immensely get through the first wave of grief.  I ended up creating a charm piece for this necklace I have of my most special people.  I included two pieces on it.  One was a lady bug charm that I had found in the beads.  At her place, after her death, there were ladybugs everywhere.  There were two in particular that stood out to me.  One hung on the window, at my eye level, while I washed dishes for awhile.  The other ladybug landed right on my wedding ring, and stayed with me while Russell and I told the neighbor about MIL's death.  Immediately when we got outside, it flew away.  The next charm I put on my necklace was a heart.  MIL had the biggest heart of anyone I knew.  She loved her people immensely.

I loved her so much, and being that we never saw her much in the winter time I still often have a hard time believing she is gone.  Next summer will not be the same, and I imagine that is when the next phase of grief will hit.  In her honor, Russell and I created a craft for me and the kids.  I realized life is too darn short to not have my own craft room.  I've already taken a doodle class, and plan to take many more. 

To MIL.
Love,
Meggsie