My in-laws moved out today. It’s funny how many people assume the cliche that would suggest I’m currently popping bottles of champagne and dancing through the now quiet hallways and rooms of my home. It’s quite the opposite actually, and this has been the case since they moved in about four months ago.
Start any conversation by saying, “My in-laws are currently living with us”, and I’ll guarantee that nine out of ten responses will have a sullen drop in their tone with whatever it is that is said next. You get a lot of “Oh, how’s that been?” responses, all of which travel downhill from a tone perspective, starting with the sympathetic “Oh” and then rolling down to sullen land with the “how’s that been?”. When this has happened my response has been understanding of their assumed melancholy, as I can imagine that in nine out of ten times the experience and associated response is probably, correctly, “Awful”, but then I say, “It’s great”, and I actually mean it. I guess it’s possible my experience is the one out of ten, sometimes you get sunshine I suppose, maybe when you don’t even notice it.
Getting introspective and investigating my minority response with the obvious, “Why has it been great?”, I think my answer has a few arms and legs to it. Right off the rip I can tell you that I think it brings me joy (there’s that weird ass word, and I once again I say “I think” as it pertains to joy because I’m still not sure I know what that word means) in that I Love the fact that we are able to actually help them for a change. Not that they particularly needed help, they sold their home in a day in a hot real estate market and their next home was in the early stages of being built. They were looking for an extended stay type place and we had a hard time imagining them staying in a Residence Inn for months on end so we said come stay with us. Once they agreed we had some cleaning and organizing to do to set up the guest room and kid’s play room for them to use as their “sanctuary”, something we had been meaning needed to do anyhow so it turned out to be an added bonus of the whole affair.
Essentially, it felt good to help them as they had done for us so many times before. While we lived out of state we would frequently come back and visit, especially after our daughter was born, and we had our own “sanctuary” within their home whenever we would do so. It was complete with a room for our daughter with a crib and a completed basement in which you could fully reside. When we were in the process of moving back into the state it served as our extended stay home while we were back and forth and searching for our next place to live. In turn, it felt good to be able to provide a comfortable place for them in much they same way when they came to need it. I can’t explain this well enough because I guess I’m still coming to grasp with it myself and I have to say I most clearly felt it when my father-in-law asked me if he could borrow my blower, you know one of those tools that blows shit out of your garage or off your driveway and out of your yard into your neighbor’s yard. It was as simple as that, something about being able to lend him this blower gave me an outstanding feeling of, well fuck, joy. He was always offering stuff to me, or giving me stuff, or letting me know that he had this or that which I was welcome to use at any time if needed, from their backyard swimming pool to a wood splitter (which funny enough I now own, the wood splitter damn it, not the pool). It dawns on me now that maybe this is the exact reason that they were always offering us stuff, and the rest of their family, because it just feels nice to be able to do that for family. I know, there are a bunch of folks reading this that are thinking, “Well duh!” currently and I get it, you aren’t as big of assholes as I am. I just mean it was nice to be able to loan him a tool for once. So that’s the selfish reason for my “It’s great” response, because it made me feel good to do it and to be able to do it.
Ok, the second reason, if we’re counting, I suppose would be that my mother-in-law would simply take care of me. This is an obvious way to win the Love and affection of the youngest and sixth kid of a family, especially one that was super cute and funny thus creating a “You Love to take care of me, you want to take care of me, you need to take care of me” type of magnetism. Basically, take me back to my childhood. I’m also not saying that she was directly trying to win my Love and affection, but it happened nonetheless. This included some simple things like buying this amazing bread that I Love and then having it toasted, buttered, and available for me to eat on most mornings.
Ok, she would probably say she was just toasting it, and buttering it, and having it ready for anyone in the family to eat, but still, she knew how much I Loved it and also how much I Love people just doing shit for me, not necessarily buying me stuff, thought that isn’t bad either, but people just doing stuff for me, like tying my shoes, or brushing my teeth, that type of stuff. Also, she would simply buy the stuff, and yes I’m talking about food, that I liked and would make sure it was always on hand, the aforementioned bread included, but also my fridge was never so well stocked with deli meat as it was while they lived with us. There has also been a good run of apple fritters, various chips and dips, restaurant leftovers, wonderful cheeses, you know, that type of simple stuff.
This is something that my wife does not subscribe to. If my kids don’t like it then she’s not paying attention to it. I actually had to get my kid’s to like my favorite juice, Cran-Cherry (you should check it out, it’s freaking delicious), to finally get my wife to keep it in stock regularly, despite prior episodes of me frantically looking for it in the house, then immediately leaving, going to the store and buying six bottles of it and coming home with nothing else but that glorious nectar.
So I suppose the second reason, my mother-in-law taking care of me, is also selfish.
I’m not entirely sure how to express the third reason my response is “It’s great.” I guess I would say it was the interaction and Love, both my own with them and my kids with their grandparents. I recall an opportunity I had a few years back, which was probably like 10 years now (times funny that way), to hang out with my wife’s grandfather. It is an experience I had that I’m sure will expand into it’s own Diary entry in the future. It would just be me and him hanging out together one evening, and at the time I was appreciating that we don’t have much time on this earth, and that sometimes it is best to just sit down and talk. Take in everything we have to offer to each other, and appreciate the vast and outstanding stories of those that came before us. Ask the questions we don’t even know we want to ask and get all of the glorious wisdom we can, while we still can. I decided I was going to spend that time just talking with him as opposed to the two of us sitting in front of a television just waiting for the time to come to an end so he could go to bed and I could be on my way. Deciding to soak that time up is one of the better decisions I’ve made in my life as we sat and I asked him questions about his childhood, coming to America, his life and him providing stories about those that he loved. It was amazing, the thing that makes me sad is that it was only one night, and that one night had an impact on me in such a way that I talk about it often. It was as simple as just deciding to pay attention and listen and learn and ask the questions. Be present. So I think that inadvertently this was on my mind and weighed into my “It’s great” answer despite the fact that I wish I was purposely present more often.
I also thought this was an amazing opportunity for my kids to be so close to the Grama and Papa that they so Love being with. This was exemplified many times but one that really sticks out to me was when my youngest was having a hard time, I think he hurt himself or was just having a rough patch, and as I was working on consoling him he says, “I want Grama”, to which I responded, “Ok buddy, she’s upstairs”, and he scurried off to their sanctuary, found Grama and spent time getting the Love he needed. To me that was amazing. I’m a big believer in exposing kids to family as much as possible as part of their development. I don’t mean visiting family, which is great as well, but them actually having meaningful direct interactions with extended family while they’re experiencing something new, learning, coping, needing and finding comfort for an issue, so I Loved that this was so easily possible. There were many times that the kids would disappear for a while into Grama and Papa’s room and just interact and hang out. Mission accomplished. Ultimately it was a chance for us to be together more and I think it will be a time that we’ll remember fondly and cherish.
I get it, they live close by, and no one is dying or leaving forever, we’ll see each other soon, so not to be too dramatic as it’s all good, but I will surely miss them being here and yes, no surprise, I cried this morning when I squeaked out the words, “Wait, you mean you’re really leaving leaving????” this morning. Having gratitude is all the rage and I often struggle with really and truly feeling it when I’m having it, but I can tell you I’m grateful we were able to do this and grateful for the time we all spent living under the same roof. Currently sitting in my empty and quiet house I guess I realize that what it comes down to, I suppose, is that I’ll miss amazing bread, toasted, buttered and waiting for me on the kitchen table, requests to borrow my blower and tools, a fridge fully stocked with SHAVED maple ham, a pantry with apple fritters and, ultimately, I’ll miss the Love. The warm feeling I would get when I would be driving home at any point in time knowing there is an increased likelihood that someone would be there doing something crazy, or fun, or loving on my kids, or just straight up providing that feeling of a full and busy home, much like the one I grew up in.