When I got my masters degree, my mother-in-law gave me
what I thought was an odd graduation gift. I remember thinking "She doesn't
get it. I'm GRAD-U-ATE-ING! From GRAD-U-ATE school!".
I write those words now and I feel sadness and shame.
"Dorchee Dear, what would you like for your
graduation?"
"Aw, that's sweet — but I don't need a thing.
I'm just happy to be done."
"Well, take a look at this. I was thinking this
would be nice."
The little, 6 x 9 Betty Crocker catalog opened to the
page where she'd paper-clipped a note with my name. She'd circled the serving
pieces.
"I've got enough points to get those and I think
they'd go so well with your silverware."
"That would be nice. Thank you."
The Betty Crocker catalog offered mostly flatware which
could be purchased with points earned from saving coupons initially found in
on on packages of Gold Medal Flour, Betty Crocker cake mixes and other
products. It had become a popular family practice for moms to
start building their daughters' hope chests, one piece of silverware at a time,
with Betty Crocker coupons. My own mom saved S&H Green Stamps and
gave me eight place settings of silverware for my wedding in
1969. Betty Crocker and S&H Green Stamps made it possible for moms to
do for their families through even the toughest of times.
But now it was 1995. The world had changed and it
just seemed so odd to me that she did this for my graduation. She just
didn't get it.
When my father-in-law passed away in 1996, my practical
mother-in-law, decided to have both of their names cast onto their
headstones.
"This way all you kids will have to do is put the
date in for me. There. That's done."
His: S.SGT US Army Air
Corps
World War II
1917 - 1996
Hers: Beloved Wife and Mother
1918 -
I remember thinking, "Really? Wife and Mother? That's all you want on there?"
The quintessential homemaker, my mother-in-law thrived
on all the details and dynamics of keeping house and raising a family. It
energized her and gave her great joy. This was foreign to me and for the first
years of my marriage, I soaked up her guidance like a sponge. If it
worried her that her son had married someone who knew nothing of what it takes
to manage a home, she never let on. She welcomed me as a daughter,
and taught me about her world. How to set the table. How to time it
to get a complete dinner on the table. How to fold sheets and make the
bed (hospital corners, always!). Little touches to decorate on a shoestring.
I wondered why my own mom didn't teach me...but she didn't know either.
In time I found I could do this thing too. Now an
experienced homemaker—but more like a self-sure teenager—I had this under
control. Oh yeah. Wife and mother? Just watch me. I could make a home, raise
kids, work and I could even go to big shot grad school.
And just like that cocky teen, I had so much more to
learn.
In 50 years of marriage my mother-in-law moved about 16
times, always helping her husband pursue his next "better deal" or
dream. A registered nurse, she found work wherever they landed and kept the
family afloat. Through a couple of business ventures that didn't work out and
uprooting the family again and again, she held them all together. Packing up,
handling the details, making ends meet. Lists, and planning and measuring.
Working along side her husband, with love, hope and good cheer, she transformed
each rental house and apartment into home. She had a couple of mottos: Bloom Where You Are Planted, and Illegitimi non carborundum. Translation: Don't let the bastards grind you down.
As the family expanded with marriages, and cross-country
moves, grandchildren and great grandchildren, she stayed close with every one
of us. She remained the vibrant north star of the family until she died
suddenly16 years ago. A beloved wife and mother indeed.
Still bereft and eternally grateful, I cherish those
Betty Crocker serving pieces now. Turns out I was the one who didn't get
it.
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