Yesterday was my mother-in-law's birthday. I finally got a chance to call her today and wish her a belated happy birthday. We are looking forward to their visit this weekend for Austin's baptism. But as we talked, I started thinking of all the things she and my father-in-law have done for me. My heart started to swell with gratitude for their goodness. I decided to sit down and pay tribute to these two lovely people who have been in my life for nearly 18 years, but will be in my life for eternity.
I quickly scribbled this quote into my IronRodMan notebook the other day while working about the house: "A grateful person is rich in contentment. An ungrateful person suffers in the poverty of endless discontentment." I loved this quote from Elder Bednar the minute I heard it.
My existence came as quite a shock to my in-laws. In 1999, they were enjoying their happy life in California, knowing that their youngest, recently returned-missionary son, Greg, was studying hard at BYU. Our courtship was such a whirlwind, even to us, that by the time Greg got around to mentioning me to his parents, we were nearly engaged. I was determined to introduce Greg to my family and keep them up to date on our fast-paced relationship, but Greg felt no such obligations to his family. Had we dated in the days of social media, no one would have been surprised by our relationship. But as it were, we spent each and every waking minute together, falling deeply in love, almost unbeknownst to his parents. Missions do a strange thing to a young man: they become rather independent! Greg felt he needed no one's permission to move forward with his life. So, it was somewhat of a shocker (and that's the understatement of the century) the day Greg called to let his parents know we were engaged. They had never even seen a picture of me, their future daughter-in-law. I later learned that more than one cuss word may have been used on their part that day.
Once school let out for the semester, we promptly headed to California so they could meet me. I was nervous beyond compare. I had never seen them either! What would they think of me? What if they were crazy? We were both on the threshold of a total crap shoot. Either this would work out nicely or we were all going to be miserable for a very long time.
I'm not sure how they felt, but I felt I literally hit the jackpot with my in-laws. I felt so welcomed into their beautiful home right from the get go. I was the fourth and last sister-in-law to enter the family, so perhaps Greg's mom had some experience, but she showered me with love and adoration from the very beginning. And Greg's dad seemed so interested in us and our lives, it made me feel very important and loved. They welcomed me into their lives with open arms and have continued to encircle me in their love each and every day since.
I'm so grateful for all of the moves they've helped us make. I'm grateful for all of the Christmases they have provided for us when we had nothing to provide for ourselves. I'm grateful for the many, many runs to Costco to stock up our apartments and homes, long before we were savvy enough to be Costco members ourselves. In fact, I'm just remembering, my very first Costco membership came when they added me to their account. I'm grateful for the time Greg's dad took Greg to Best Buy (more than once!) and returned with a computer, a desk, a chair, a printer, and all the paper we might need. Knowing Greg's love for technology like I do now, that was majorly speaking Greg's love language. I'm grateful for the time my mother-in-law came for a visit, bought ALL the supplies, and helped me sew (okay, she mostly did all the work) everything for my very first baby nursery. Then, even after she went home, Lill made baby blankets, bought baby clothes, and checked on me often. There were many trips with Greg's family that we could have never afforded, but they so graciously provided for us. They helped us feel apart of the family by planning and providing for many reunions and get togethers. And when the entire family came to visit, they let us have one of the bedrooms, while other, bigger, families got the laundry room and the office. Ha! Lill is such a fantastic gift giver. Almost everything in my home that is nice or useful came from Lill. She has always brought me up to speed on everything. I still wouldn't know about thread counts, silver polish, or how to wrap a lovely present if it wasn't for her. Garr is always willing to spend hours talking to me. He listens to me, answers my plethora of questions, and asks my advice about things like writing, family history, and Facebook. He makes me feel very valued and smart. And they love our children! Lill has put together more cousin camps, crafting sessions, cake wars, and sewing lessons than I ever thought possible. And Garr is right there etching the kids' name into treasure boxes for their birthdays and attending every sporting event he can. They make sure to have special cereal on hand and a cupboard full of treats when the grandkids are around. Lill has an extensive dress-up collection, which my kids absolutely adore. And she is always willing to help us on any decorating project around our house. Even when I've grown weary and gone to bed, she will stay up with Greg working to finish our project. And they love Greg. When we were getting ready to build our house, and Greg was so absorbed with the house plans, I found it tedious to continuously talk about each little detail. Then his parents came to town. For hours, the three of them pored over the plans, heads bent together, rulers and mechanical pencils poised in mid air. They sketched furniture schemes and moved our fireplace around numbers of times in an attempt to get it "just right." I tried to join in, but after awhile and seeing their complete pleasure with Greg, I stepped away from the kitchen table and left them to discuss and plan for many more hours. They recognize what he is passionate about, and then they listen and discuss it with him as long as he wants. I'm grateful for that.
But at the end of the day, the thing I'm most grateful for is that they gave me their son. They started with a baby, fed him when he was hungry, rocked him at night, cared for each and every sickness, cheered at his games, took him to church, taught him to be a good boy, kissed his cheeks and hugged him every day. They got him through high school and into college. They cried when they left him there. They sent him on a mission, clear across the world to Spain. And cried some more. Then they supported him and wrote to him and prayed endlessly for him. All while I never even knew he existed. But they were preparing my soul mate for me. They were raising a son to be a man. My man. And after all of the blood, sweat, and tears they had poured into this boy whom they love so much, he gave himself and his heart away without so much as a second thought to the opinion of his parents. And like the true saints that they are, they barely skipped a beat. If Greg was gonna love me, then they were gonna love me too.
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| Love Birds in 1999! |
I used to smirk a little when we were first married and Greg would talk an hour on the phone with his dad. They would spend the entire time going over, in fine detail, the Lakers and their season, or the latest Masters Golf tournament, or even BYU or UCLA football and basketball. At the end of the conversation, Greg's dad would briefly ask how things were going for Greg. He'd say things were great. Then it was goodbyes and "I love you's" and time to hang up. I didn't think that was a very in-depth relationship at first. I never heard Greg share much of anything with his dad. But I watched and I learned. Greg's eyes would light up as his dad's voice came on the phone. They would laugh and talk and agree with each other's opinions. They were happy together when BYU won and they would be in misery together when BYU lost. One day, it dawned on me the actual depth of their father-son relationship. Forged in a world of sports, it was a son who looked up to his dad. They found a mutual interest that has kept them together their entire life. And even as my father-in-law has slowed down, and Greg's playing days are past as well, they still grab the phone and can spend an hour talking about something they both love. I don't know of a better thing a father can do for his son than to be interested in what he's interested in, to just be there for his son.
I'm eternally linked to Greg. And a huge part of who he is comes form my in-laws. I don't think I thank them enough. Sometimes, especially when Greg is having a bad day, I look at my husband and imagine that he is one of my sons. And I wonder how I would want my daughter-in-law to treat him in this very moment. I'm usually surprised by what I discover. If my little boy comes home from school, tosses his backpack angrily in a heap on the floor, and then storms past me to the couch, I'm quick to saunter over. I put my arm around him, stroking his arm or his hair lightly, and ask about his day. If he's too angry to share, then I make him a yummy snack and go easy on him for the rest of the evening. But if my husband comes in the door grumpy, storms past me and flops on the couch, my first reaction is to demand an explanation or an apology, or to demand that he treat us all better and change his attitude. If I'm lucky, I'll remember the trick of thinking of him as a son. And I'm surprised by the change of course my heart takes. Suddenly, I can see the little boy his parents have given to me. The one they hoped I would love and care for when they weren't there. The one they hoped I would bring happiness and comfort to when they couldn't. Maybe that is the best way I can show my gratitude to my amazing in-laws. I just need to love their son. Because, of course, they loved him first.
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