Both my parents and my husband’s dad had birthdays this month. I’m grateful and blessed to have both my parents, and both my in-laws on this planet.
I didn’t meet my in-laws until I had already been married for a year. We met for the first time in London, April 2011, for the wedding of my husbands’s older brother. I remember knocking on their hotel door after we arrived and feeling a more than a little nervous. My timing could’ve been better…they’d been napping after their long flight, and my mother-in-law answered the door with a roller in her hair. (This woman is put together ALWAYS! She’s gorgeous…and told me how mortified she was about that roller!) They took me right in…there was never any formality or hesitation. I felt like a long lost and much missed member of the family right from the start.
And my folks. My dad has lost several siblings over recent years, and as such, has been forced to think about his own mortality. I know this not because of anything he’s said, but because of his actions. Making sure I know where all the paperwork and legal documents are. Making sure I know who to contact and what information will be required. Making sure my sisters and I know how to carry on and keep my Mom taken care of.
Mom has never had a problem talking about her transition. I mean, she’s in no rush, but she’s always been comfortable discussing it. Her matter-of-factness about the whole thing is sometimes hard to hear, but I love that she’s so healthy about it. She’s a strong, Christian woman and both she and my dad are among the loves of my life.
There’s a saying that the only people who truly know your story are the ones who help you write it. I’m grateful to still be writing, and blessed that the people who know my story best are in my life and continue to help just by being here.