I Never Got to Fight With My Mother-in-Law and I Wish We Had More Time

• I only had a mother-in-law for 377 days because she died. 
• I often hear my friends complain about their mothers-in-law. It makes me wish I could fight mine. 
• At least that would mean she was still around. 

I was just at dinner with my college friends, sharing bottles of wine, Greek food, and stories about our children. Discussions went from which sports are currently taking over our weekends, to relationships with our in-laws. I always try to zone out when the conversation goes in that direction, so I was caught off guard when my friend Abby turned to me and said, “Gosh I can’t stand my mother-in-law. How’s yours?” “She’s dead,” I said. “I only had a mother-in-law for 377 days.”

She lived life to the fullest

After six months of dating, Elan told me his mother was coming to visit from Israel and that she’d like to include me in all of their plans. I was excited, but I was so nervous to meet her. And the thought of having my week planned out for me was disturbing. I like to march to the beat of my own drum. Plus, I assumed she’d be judgmental when it came to me.

That wasn’t the case. Instead of intrusive questions about my background, his mom took us to dinner at Peter Luger, to see Kinky Boots on Broadway, and even cooked brunch for us at my apartment. She was disappointed when I needed a night off to relax instead of joining them at Spice Market. This woman lived her life to the fullest, and wanted me to join in on all of her plans. 

She was happy about us getting married

Once we got engaged, I thought the relationship I had with his mom might change. I heard that’s when the real conflict begins. Instead of the arguments about the wedding that I was anticipating, she bought me flowers, and took us away for the weekend to celebrate. I thought she’d be nervous having her son live across the world. But no, she said “What would I have to be nervous about? He has you.”

My mother-in-law was only 20 years older than me. She took ballroom dancing lessons with her second husband, and they made their own wine. When she found out she had cancer, she booked a weekend trip to a new hotel to relax before beginning treatment.

My mother-in-law loved to plan. When we’d visit her, I’d wake up to her telling me about a yoga session she’d booked for us that morning. She’d tell us where and when to meet her for lunch and what time to be at the beach.

That was my biggest issue that my mother-in-law wanted to plan and spend time with me. I wasn’t used to that. 

I wanted to know her better

For the last two years of her life, my mother-in-law was sick, and you would have never known it. She thought that if she remained positive and planned for the future, the future would come. 

In her final weeks before she passed, after the cancer had spread and her doctors told us there was nothing more they could do, she finally accepted her fate. We spent three weeks together during her time in home hospice. We meditated and watched the sunset from her balcony. She told my husband and me to cancel our weekend getaway plans and join her at a Qui Gong workshop for healing. We agreed. She told me how happy she was that I was part of their family, how much she loved me, and how I reminded her of herself. And eventually, towards the very end, she told me how at peace she was dying knowing I’d take care of her son forever.

By the time she was no longer conscious, I sat by her bed and told her how mad I was that I’d never get to know her better and how much I was really looking forward to making more plans with her. The dreams of spa weekends, more Broadway shows, and wine tastings were dead. And soon, she would be too. 

I don’t know if it was the cancer that made our relationship an anomaly or if we just truly got along. I’ll never know. I hated when others made plans for me or told me what to do, but somehow I accepted it with her. 

No matter how many stories I hear about my mother-in-law, I’ll never really get to know her. I’ll never have a fight with her. I’ll never have the chance to critique her grandparenting skills. I’ll never have that famous argument about where my husband and I spend the holidays. I’ll never learn how to make her chicken soup. And she’ll never have the chance to make plans for us again. What hurts the most is that our children will never get to know their grandmother. 

Five years later, it still burns. Sometimes I just pretend that she still just lives far away and isn’t really gone. I imagine that if she were still here, she’d help me make sense of my husband when I struggle to. And she’d probably offer me lots of parenting advice. Although I wouldn’t take it, I’d appreciate it. 

That’s why when my friend Abby complains about her mother-in-law, I want to scream “At least you have one!” I want to tell her to embrace the arguing since I’ll never get to. Because when you have a fight with someone you love, sometimes you end up closer than before.