Twelve Years of Memories, 31 October 2012

Today I am thinking about my mother-in-law.  Today marks twelve months since we learned that she had been killed; and although she officially died on October 30th, the 31st is the day I began mourning for her.

Everyone grieves differently, and Jay was telling me that he didn't feel any particular extra grief approaching this date, but it helps me to take some time to sit down and remember her, so even though my brain would probably be better off in bed at this early hour, my heart needs to be here.

My first memory of Mom—as I called her from the first point I joined their family—is a bit fuzzy, to be honest.  I remember seeing Jay's family join him in our university dining hall for breakfast one weekend.  At the time, Jay and I were peripheral friends, belonging to the same Bible study but running in different social circles, but it was always fun to see families of fellow students.  The reason my first memory of Mom is fuzzy is because I was so shocked by how much Jay's dad looked and acted like him.  I can still see Dad standing by the salad bar, and me feeling slightly freaked out at their similarity.

The next memory happened about a year later, during our Sophomore year.  Jay invited a few friends to his family's home for a movie and snacks one evening, and amusingly, my memory of Mom is eclipsed by Jay's dad here, too!  At the time, I was “watching” Jay, trying to figure out if he had more-than-just-friends feelings toward me, and during the movie night his dad chatted me up a bit and enthusiastically pointed out how much the family dog seemed to like me.  (Real subtle, Dad, haha!)  But I know Mom was there in the background, making sure everyone was comfortable and well-fed.

Fast-forward about six months; and it's not that my next memory of Mom is fuzzy, it's that I don't think I actually saw her at all.  I was preparing to go abroad for a semester, and in the month before I left, I took a walk with Jay one afternoon to have a good long DTR (“define the relationship”).  It was about dinner time when we finished up our conversation, and he popped into his house for a minute before I drove away.  When he came back out he said, “My mom would like to invite you to stay for dinner!  She's cooking lamb.”  Although I declined the invitation, I felt incredibly warmed that she would think to include me in their family meal (and maybe I should have stayed—I love lamb!).

Memory Number Four again takes place in our university dining hall.  This time, Jay and I were not peripheral friends: It was the morning of our first date, which would be taking place that evening.  His family joined him for breakfast, and he invited me to sit with them.  Enter here my first memory of Mom's smile!  She smiled so warmly at me throughout the meal...she was so happy that Jay was so happy, and I was happy too, and I love remembering her happy beam.

Jay and I were engaged three wonderful months later, and that summer was full of taking turns driving to see each other on the weekends.  There were many meals Mom made for me during that time, and conversations about guest lists and bridesmaid dresses, and questions about apartment-shopping, and lots more smiles.  She looked beautiful at our wedding and I cherish the photos I have of her that day.

It would take many more paragraphs if I were to recount all my Mom Memories during the ensuing nine years.  She was there for  all the milestones: My senior recital, our graduations, buying our first car, moving to our first house, vacationing as a family.  Announcing to her the coming birth of her first grandchild is a highlight among firsts for sure!  Seven months later, she and Dad were at the hospital just hours after G's birth, and she became Nana.

G—and later Z—adored their Nana, and she them.  She watched G during the day once-a-week while I worked his first year, which reminds me of one of the things I appreciated so much about her.  Although Mom obviously had her preferred way of doing things and held her own opinions, she never told me what to do, or how to change my parenting.  Watching G during the day and then later having the boys over one night a week, she was always extremely conscientious in honoring our parenting decisions and techniques.  Meanwhile, she delighted in watching the kids grow, and her sparkling laugh would bubble over when describing or hearing about their latest antics.

As her only daughter-in-law, it was my privilege to do little things for her, too.  She loved it when I cooked for her.  :-)  We had dinners at our house every so often, plus the occasional lunch I'd whip out for her if she happened to be running errands in the area.  Mom and I really bonded over food.  Jay and his Dad were in it for the conversations, sometimes forgetting to notice what was on the table, but Mom and I shared an appreciation for good food.  When she cooked for me, I made sure to voice my enjoyment, and when I served her, she made me feel like a gourmet chef!  “This looks like it could be in a restaurant!” was her highest praise, and words that I treasured.

And then I was there for some of her milestones: Their new custom house, 30th wedding anniversary, the birthdays and deaths of a number of her close family members.

But as many memories as I have of Mom, she beat me by having the first memory of the two of us.  A few years after Jay and I were married, Mom shared the following story with me.

“It was your first semester of college, and Jay took us into the dorm to introduce us to people.  In the dorm lounge, you and two other girls were sitting next to each other on a couch.  Jay told us your names and we moved on to the next thing.  The next year, when Jay sat with me and said, 'Mom, there's a girl at school I think I could be very good friends with,' I saw that couch with the three girls on it in my mind, and Rachel, your face lit up in my memory and I prayed, 'Oh Lord, please let it be her!'”

Mom, I cannot believe how blessed I have been to be called your daughter.  I so wish we could have had more firsts and seconds and thirds together, and I hate that we have lasts.  Thank you for loving me so much, even before you really knew me or knew how I would fit in your family.  I'm so glad you will always be part of mine.

Boyfriend? 04 October 2012

Today my husband had a deposition with a police sergeant and a district attorney, and my six-year old confessed that he kissed a girl.  Just a normal day, right?

As strange and heavy as it is to be involved in a murder trial, it's the kissing story that's making me reel a bit, to be honest.  Yesterday, when I picked up G from school, his teacher pulled me aside to tell me that G had been talking about kissing girls during recess.  When I broached the subject with him, he cringed and refused to talk about it.

But--O miracle of having a two-parent family--Jay was able to coax the story out of him during dinner tonight by first asking G if he was embarrassed to talk about it (he said he was) and assuring him that we wouldn't think "bad-silly" thoughts about him.  Then G smiled and said there was a girl at school who "hated him" but that he liked.  (!!!!)  And he kissed her.  !!!! "What did she do?" Jay prompted casually.  "She pulled away her arm."  This here mom breathed a sigh of relief that it was only an arm kiss, at least.  G continued, "She didn't like it because her daddy said she couldn't have a boyfriend."  !!!!!!!

He continued that sometimes she liked being around him and sometimes she didn't.  Like when they participated in a learning station during class, she enjoyed being with him, and they cuddled.  (I wanted to interrogate, "What do you mean, cuddled???" but I kept my mouth shut.)  But later she didn't want to be around him.

Jay talked about why he could kiss me--"because we're married"--and I piped up that it might make the girl nervous if G talked about kissing with her.  "It doesn't make her nervous," G retorted confidently.  "She just doesn't like me."  Then Jay led a discussion that every little and big boy should hear, and suggested that maybe G should find out what kinds of things she likes and then do those things.  My eyes widened a bit when G rattled off what kinds of things she likes to eat and how she plays, but I'll choose to perceive this as him innocently inheriting my gift of observation, rather than being a stalker in the making.

I have to admit, G was awfully cute as he smiled and talked about this girl, and as he giggled about the things he did around her.  And to be perfectly honest, I remember pretending about kissing boys when I was his age, but I certainly didn't try to kiss any of them for reals!  Come to think of it, I deliberately avoided the occasional affectionate advance.  But I had no qualms about chasing said boys around the lawn.  I better quit before I bare too many quasi-embarrassing facts.

My take-away from this is that it's good to know I have a little boy who participates in his social environments, who feels safe talking about his feelings and actions around his family, and is willing to listen to suggestions about behavior changes.  Yes, those are good things.

One last Mommy thing to add:  Little Girl who spurns my charming son's playful affection, someday you're going to look back and say wistfully, "I really liked that boy G."