Mother In Law
I noted a recent post on Faithful Dissident’s blog about her Granny wherein she said; “Although my Grandma and I will probably continue to approach certain things differently, I think that we probably have more in common than either of us realized…. I was certainly “enlightened” by the connection to my grandmother that I didn’t even realize I had.”
This reminded me of my Mother in Law.
We all have regrets, right? I mean, from the time we can spell the word, we’ve all noted our mistakes and ineffectually wished them away. Most are trivial and best acknowleged, learned from, then set aside. But I reflect with regret on my relationship (or lack of it) with this good woman over and over.
She passed away years ago. I’d already been married to her son for close to 40 years when she passed. In all that time, though we visited husband’s family frequently, nary a single harsh word ever passed her lips to me. And yet, we were not friends. I had this notion of what a good Chinese wife was supposed to be and what a good Chinese Daughter in Law was supposed to be (a servant to her inlaws). I feared and resisted that imagined role and kept my Mother-in-Law at arms length.
I knew some basic facts of her life - how she was born and grew up in Boston’s Chinatown, the eldest of 8 children. I knew that when she was 8, her little brother (number 1 son), ran in front of a horse cart and was killed while in her charge. That must have been horrifying to her. I wonder now if her parents gave her comfort or berated her for it. I never asked. I’ll never know.
We recently found out she was on a girls basketball team in her youth.She was a jock! Who would have thought? We also found out she was the first Chinese girl to matriculate at Portia Law school. We found out she was involved with the Nationalist Chinese political committee in Boston - a political activist in her youth. I had no idea.
I knew that she went to China after marrying Father, to live with her In Laws - Mother-in-Law, Father-in-Law, his 3 concubines, brothers-in-law and their families. They all spoke Madarin, she spoke only Cantonese and English. I wonder how she felt about that move - was she scared? Father’s family was wealthy and well connected, she was a Cantonese girl from Boston. Was she concerned that she wouldn’t be accepted? Did she fear the move would force her into a traditional role alien to her experience? How did she feel about the concubines? She said once that when the sons (Father and his brothers) wanted something from the old man, they always went to #3 Concubine for it, since she was the person best able to sweet talk the Patriarch. I wonder what the dynamics of that family were like? Was there jealously or cooperation among those ’sister wives’? I surely do wish now that I’d ask, but I never did.
With the Japanese invasion of China, she and the family became refugees, moving south from Beijing to Kunming (near Burma). What was it like living in War torn China? Wish I’d asked. When pregnant with my husband-to-be, and having lost 2 children while in China, she returned to the US, taking a ship out of the Haiphong harbor with her 5 year old son in tow. Her husband remained behind. She said just as her ship left the harbor, they passed the Japanese Navy moving in to occupy Vietnam. My gosh - how frightening that must have been. I wonder how she managed on that long voyage? How did she keep her young son occupied and safe? What was it like? How long did the voyage take? I don’t know. I never asked.
She arrived in the Port of San Francisco over 8 months pregnant, with her little boy, and was shunted off to Angel Island for she’d lost her American passport during the move to Kunming. It took some days for friends in San Franciso to interceed and help get her paperwork in order. Her new baby (my husband) was born in San Francisco, barely two weeks after her release from Angel Island. I wonder what it must have been like there? Was Angel Island like Ellis Island on the East Coast? Was it crowded with refugees from the fighting in the Pacific? Was she worried that she’d drop the kid while still interred? Now I’m curious, but it’s too late to ask.
Soon after my husband was born, she traveled across the country back to Boston with her new baby and little boy, to rejoin her parents, brothers and sisters. They all lived together in crowded and poor conditions. What a change that must have been from the wealth of her in-law’s home. She must have missed her husband (he didn’t come back to the US for another 3-4 years.) How worried she must have been with him still in the China with but infrequent letters, and even those long in transit.
We were visiting recently with some ranch guests. Husband mentioned that when he was young, it was his job to house clean, do the laundry and the ironing. His mom worked. He asked once why he had to do that stuff. She told him that she always had to clean up after her Father and brothers and she wasn’t going to have his wife have to do that! My goodness! My Chinese Mother-in-Law was a Feminist! I had no idea. I could have found out, if only I’d asked.
One of the last times I visited with her, I was chatting about the time a while before when my Husband was seriously ill. I mentioned how great it was that one of his colleagues came by the house every single week to visit and catch him up on what was happening at work, keeping him in the loop and interested. I mentioned how grateful I was that eldest daughter got off her late work shift, slept a few hours then drove an hour down to visit with him several times a week - “Hi Dad”, she’d say, “I brought my laundry down to use Mom’s washing machine” or some such excuse for she knew he was very proud and disinclined to seek assistance. While there she’d do all our laundry, start dinner, blab with him for hours just keeping company. I said I was so glad she did that. I was really busy at work then and it was hard trying to barely keep up at work and still care for him.
Mother in Law turned and said, (ALMOST raising her voice), “What about ME?” It had never occurred to me to ask her to come. My first thought was “Lord, how could I possibly have dealt with the added stress of having the Mother-in-Law move in during that difficult time.” But she, of course, was thinking how glad she would have been to spend time with her son (it was a life threatening illness), and how grateful she would have been to be able to contribute to his care. And, of course, I knew right then how good it would have been for him to have had her company and all the favorite dishes she would have happily prepared for him. I pretended not to hear the question for in truth I didn’t know what to say. I was ashamed that it had never occured to me to invite and allow her that satisfaction and him the pleasure of it.
Some mistakes we discover too late to remedy. I expect I shall always regret having spent so very many years fearing (for no good reason), to respond to the open hand of friendship offered by this remarkable woman.
Thank you so much for this post. Very good food for thought.
My perception of my MIL has changed so much since having a child. I realize now that she loves my husband the way that I love our little boy and it makes me want to make more of an effort with her. I certainly hope that whoever my little guy marries will allow me to be a part of their life.
Comment by Roxanna — July 19, 2009 @ 2:02 pm
Betty Jo,remarkably written and almost too hard.What is it that gets in the way? I wish I had been more generous to my mil-she was a pain in the arse,but I didn’t know her in her better years.
She had been more heroic,and more of a feminist,than I hope I’ll ever have to be,having herself lived and nursed through the war.If I’m anything like as honest as you,I will admit to being a little scathing about her apparent espousal of normality at the expense of ’selfhood’. Whilst never courting conflict,I must have once made this embarassingly clear.She said,with admirable generosity,something to the effect that what I did not realise was how all that anybody wanted post war was to be normal,to have a normal family life,a house and kids,and to have the leisure to care for them.
I think that like your mil,she was just waiting to be asked as she did not want to intrude.I was waiting for her to offer as I did not want to be demanding.We missed each other.
I so wish I knew where this all leaves me,now a potential mil myself.I hope I’m learning that it’s better to speak my truth,but I’m not convinced I’ll be able to do that,faced perhaps by a woman of greater accomplishments and abilities than my own.That will be a lot of crow to swallow.Turns out,I’m really not the woman I thought I was,and I’ve done no better than my neurotic mil.
Comment by wayfarer — July 19, 2009 @ 2:30 pm
Ugh. Betty Jo! Now I have to lug my prehistoric printer downstairs, find the cords and connect it to my laptop so I can print this out. I don’t expect any miracles with my toad of a mil, but I’ll try to listen more, ask better questions. Ugh! I hate becoming a better human being.
Comment by crazywomancreek — July 19, 2009 @ 3:00 pm
I feel this way about a lot of my older relatives. In my desire to “change my family tree”, I’ve had a tendency to reject learning about the people in my family because I want to start new and not have my family influenced. But, I am beginning to feel that I should learn what I can while I have time. My grandmother (who had a hard life - her husband passed away when she had five young children) recently retired at around age 75 and spends a lot of time reading all the family stories that she acquired but never read. It is kind of sad that by the time we have time to learn about our elder family members, it is often too late. There is also an article in the July Ensign related to this. There is a quote from President Joseph Fielding Smith:
Comment by Stephanie — July 19, 2009 @ 3:54 pm
Thank you Betty Jo for writing this and giving me that elbow in the ribs to once again consider my mother in law. *sigh*
My husband’s mother died in a plane crash when he was 10-years-old (it was a small plane, she was the pilot). She took with her my DH’s sparkle and all happiness. To this day (we’re married 22+ years) I don’t know that he has ever felt as loved as he did before she died. She loved him unconditionally. She also took away his instinct to trust that people wouldn’t just up and leave him. These have all been uphill battles for me.
For many years I harbored a resentment against her (sometimes I really am that petty and small minded!). She left me holding a crapload of extra baggage that should have been cleaned up before I showed up. It wasn’t - I love my guy like a junkie needs a fix - so I signed up for the deal.
I began to soften my heart to her after we joined the church. Her work was the first work I did in the temple after my own stuff. As we left the temple a friend said to me, “you must be the best daughter-in-law ever.” It made me stop and think. I can behave like a good dil without the earthly relationship of having my mil here with us. I look forward to meeting her and talking and sharing and just loving her tons.
I hope I can be a good mother in law - mostly I think I’ll try to love the people my people bring home.
Betty Jo - again, love your observations.
It’s gonna be a super Monday!
Comment by Mary Magdalene — July 19, 2009 @ 4:21 pm
Thanks for this post. I don’t have a bad relationship with my MIL, but I don’t have a great one either. This is a good reminder to cherish the people close to us before it’s too late. I will try harder to be closer to my MIL.
Comment by shannon — July 19, 2009 @ 5:12 pm
I don’t have a MIL, but I can see how this gives great insight to all relationships. Thanks BettyJo for reminding me to have a loving patience and acceptance for all in my heart.
Comment by shakti — July 19, 2009 @ 6:05 pm
re: 1 Roxanne: “realize now that she loves my husband the way that I love our little boy and it makes me want to make more of an effort with her.”
isn’t that the truth. Unless we’re lucky enough to be born with more than our share of empathy, We never figure out what motherhood feels like until we feel it from the inside.
re: 2 Wayfarer said: “I think that like your mil,she was just waiting to be asked as she did not want to intrude.I was waiting for her to offer as I did not want to be demanding.We missed each other.”
That’s a lot of it in a succinct nutshell as usual Wayfarer. Also though, in the case of my MIL, I pushed away even harder than she stayed back, perhaps because I just had NO IDEA how to be a good daughter in law and didn’t want much to be what I thought those words meant.
I think it’s a tough relationship to get right. Maybe to some extent because many of us have an interesting and challenging relationship with our own Mothers, and might just get those sorted out into reasonable adult - adult relationships when we come of age (in their eyes) in marriage. Then along comes this OTHER woman, expecting some different form of Mother / daughter thing when the first one was hard enough thankyou. Also, we never relate to the person they were when they were our age instead of the old grump them might appear to be in their older years. If we did, then perhaps they’d feel more like that younger version of themselves, would not seem so different to us and a relationship might be easier to forge.
re: 3: You always make me laugh. thanks.
re: 5: “I hope I can be a good mother in law - mostly I think I’ll try to love the people my people bring home.”
I expect you’ll succeed at that too.
Comment by Betty Jo — July 19, 2009 @ 7:44 pm
As someone in the middle of a full-blown MIL problem at the moment, I have to save this one to read later. I will say this, though: One of the toughest things for me to admit is that I know my husband married someone who is just like his mother in many, many ways. We have strong similarities that I hope manifest in different ways.
Comment by Eris — July 19, 2009 @ 11:40 pm
Thank you so much for the wonderful post and the kick in the pants to start my Monday by calling my MIL. Let’s spread a little love and tolerance today.. and a virtual hug for Betty Jo!
Comment by Sonia — July 20, 2009 @ 6:32 am
re: 9 “One of the toughest things for me to admit is that I know my husband married someone who is just like his mother in many, many ways.”
I open my refrigerator door, see all the little jars of thises and thates crowding every shelf and say “Oh no! I’m become my own Mother in Law.” She was queen of the rule that little bits of leftovers had to age a while in the fridge before they could be tossed.
I had a boss once (fortunately for a but a short while) who just drove me crazy. It took a while to realize that the things I hated most in him were the things that reminded me of ways I decidedly did NOT like in myself.
Comment by Betty Jo — July 20, 2009 @ 9:42 am
I am my mother-in-law’s complete opposite. I’ve found several women who are much like her and I keep trying to fix Bill up with them to no avail. He’s rather have a mouthy, neurotic wife who drives him crazy (and vice versa).
I have (so far) not forgiven my mother-in-law. I don’t know if I ever will in this life. She was a good person and I despise myself for my pettiness, but I just can’t do it.
I tell her off all the time. Because even though she’s dead, I know she’s hanging around, disapproving.
Comment by annegb — July 20, 2009 @ 12:59 pm
My husband is a momma’s boy. I was never threatened by this. His mom was kind to me from the start. The best part? She always took my side and always told my husband how lucky he is to have me. How could I not love her?? She passed away only a year and a half after my husband and I got married. I’ve never, ever felt so jipped. If I carry anything from the short relationship that we had it will be trying to love and express my love for my children’s spouses the way she did for me.
She is an amazing woman. That my children will grow up without her direct influence just plain sucks.
Comment by jdub — July 20, 2009 @ 10:53 pm
What’s that old saying? There’s something about her that I can’t stand about me…
#3 Crazywomancreek, you make me laugh
This is a great post. I have a great relationship with my MIL, but this makes me think about the sisters I don’t know very well in RS. Through visiting teaching, I’ve been able to learn a lot of things from and about a lot of sisters that I otherwise wouldn’t have been blessed by. This is a good reminder for all our relationships.
This reminds me of one of my favorite sayings. It is from a quote that Mr. Rogers used to carry around with him in his wallet, “There isn’t anyone, having known their story, who I couldn’t love.”
Comment by HeidiAnn — July 20, 2009 @ 11:00 pm
I enjoyed this post. It is true that often we miss a lot by not getting to know people. A few years ago while I was taking care of my mother an uncle on my father’s side passed away. My mother and I went to the funeral.
This uncle was one who didn’t come around much to our family events. I only saw him a few times while I was growing up. I had always thought he was just not a social person. It turns out he did socialize more with his wife’s family. He was a very fascinating person and a war hero. None of this I knew. I missed out by not getting to know this uncle.
Thanks for reminding us to take time to get to know those around us.
Comment by cyclingred — July 21, 2009 @ 5:35 am
Absolutely astonishing what we miss out on from stubbornness, shyness, reticence, supposed consideration, lack of forgiveness, and the rest of our human baggage. A young man in a long-ago writing class told a story that still gives me a lump in my throat.
He was perhaps 25 and married. His father had been a POW in Korea for several years. Though he had given fireside talks all over the region about the prison camp, he had never discussed his experience with his family.
I assigned the students to write the required long term paper about something that had a research angle, but had also to have a family connection. (Got some great papers–one from the grand-daughter of a woman whose husband died in a mine accident leaving her with 5 children and absolutely NO insurance or pension from the mine operators. She was one of some 20 young women thus left destitute in that Utah mining town. The student researched how these women supported themselves and their large families.)
Anyway, the young man decided he would write about the U.S. POW’s in this Korean prison. (It had been much publicized because of certain unclear prisoner decisions.) He said, “Now after all these years, I’ll finally find out what my dad went through.”
That night he called his father, telling him of the class assignment and asking him if he would talk about his past. There was a very long silence. Then the father said, “I will tell you anything you want to know.” After the young man read his paper to the class, all of us in the room were choked up. To this day I don’t know why there was this long silence on the subject between the veteran and his family.
Thank you, Betty Jo, for your frank and touching discussion of something so important.
Comment by Crone — July 22, 2009 @ 12:03 pm
Crone,I think some men are just too noble to glorify war by making themselves appear heroic,or indeed to burden a growing generation with the weight of their experience.No-one in my husband’s family spoke of their war experience,it was only when we met former comrades at funerals and began to research through war records that we learnt of the heroism of these family members.I understood so much more about their lives since that time from these stories. History marked them.
I’m in awe of women like Betty Jo’s mil,she appears from the OP never to have asked for a break due to her history.So many stories.I think we must try to tell these stories wherever possible.
Comment by wayfarer — July 22, 2009 @ 5:02 pm
Wayfarer, I vigorously second that emotion. We need to tell these stories, hear them and SAVE them. Every day of the world, old diaries, letters, journals, and other precious personal accounts are being thrown away, trashed, eaten by mice and mold.
When teaching courses in women’s journals and memoirs, I implored students to TALK to their relatives, get their stories on tape, and refuse to believe the initial comments, “Oh, you don’t want to hear about THAT!” Eighteen- and nineteen-year old women came back from these exchanges with grandmothers and great-aunts with a new appreciation of life and of women that no feminist book could have given them.
Comment by Crone — July 23, 2009 @ 9:14 am