Grateful

I almost cannot remember a time when the oldies didn't live here. That sounds crazy but it's been an all-consuming whirlwind. Between various oldies chores, writing directions, dealing with doctors and just inhabiting the same house, my habits and expectations have changed.

Here's a good example: At noon, I asked my brother-in-law and his wife what we should have for dinner. This is the Belle speaking through me. Three years ago, my first thought about dinner wouldn't have hit until at least 5:00 PM. And that would only be true if I was worried about going to the grocery store. If I had groceries or leftovers or the possibility of going out, that thought could wait until about 7:00 PM. The oldies have reprogrammed me.

I almost cannot remember when the dungeon and the basement weren't overrun with oldie gizmos (which, of course, Hangdog was entitled to have.)

The wheelchair, canes, walkers and other aids will go. I hope they help someone else. We still have handicap bars in several bathrooms. That's not going to change.

When it comes to in-laws, there seems to be two camps. You know them well and they are a part of your every day life. Or, they are semi-strangers that you visit with on obligatory holidays and special occasions. I've lived it both ways with the oldies.

When the husband and I first lived in sin, his mother warned him about me. (For the record, she had never met me but she was skeptical.) After we married, she was kind and gracious. She also took no time at all to let me know who was in charge of her boy. We did holidays and anniversaries. It was a dance of two determined women fighting for various roles. We both lost battles; we both won some too.

We pretended to know each other and love each other for many years. We swapped family stories and photos. We teased each other and grew a little closer. But she had other daughters-in-law. I saw myself as someone she grew to like and eventually love but her plate was full. Until ...

The husband was dealing with Hangdog post-surgery and I was taking her to chemo. We traveled many miles. (My personal favorite memory is when she would fall asleep in the car after chemo and I had absolutely no clue how to find my way back from the doctor's office in Memphis to their house in Mississippi.) But we did it and now it seems like a bonding moment.

Eventually, they moved here and lived with us. Their lives and our lives were exposed. Everyone says that you can't know what goes on inside a marriage unless you're part of it. That's only partially true. Two married couples living in the same household ... well, let's just say, there are few secrets. She knew immediately if the husband was getting on my nerves and I could tell by her tone if Hangdog was making her crazy.

If things had panned out differently, I could've been one of those daughter-in-laws who performed the obligations. I could've been the one doing the parade wave out the car window, "See you next year!"

Instead I'm the daughter-in-law who received the gift of the oldies. For all my bitching, I learned so much. (And a lot of it sent me over the edge.) I didn't know you could be married 60+ years and still find something to fight about. I didn't know you could change your tone of voice and calling someone "Honey" or "Love" could come out as an insult. Yep, that's the way it works.

I make lots of mistakes. Living with the oldies wasn't one of them. I'm grateful for the gifts.