When I first met my mother-in-law, I wasn't quite so sure she liked me. OK, I sort of knew she didn't like me. From the hyper stressed-out "no, no, no" when R picked up my suitcase that first visit home -- before we were married -- and she thought he was taking the suitcase to his room to her "sharing" photos of R's first wedding with me -- after he and I were married, the first few years were rough. I remember, after only a year or so of marriage, vowing to never talk to her again.
Fortunately, I did talk with her. During the past 20 + years, I've come to admire and love her. She's my husband's mother and she did a fine job of raising him and his brother. They are both good men. She became a grandmother to my children.
Betty Louise was the best darn cook I ever met. Pretty much NOTHING she ever cooked in her life was healthy for you, but it sure tasted good.
When she was ready to move from her apartment to an assisted living facility without a kitchen, the one thing every one of my kids asked for when asked if they would like to have anything was the big pot she used to cook chicken and dumplings. I never have tried to pretend I could cook as well as Betty Lou. And, I've worked for years on a cookbook taken from her handwritten recipes that I'm hoping I'll finish by this weekend -- at least a shortened version of it. I want to give it out to her friends and family at her funeral.
She died yesterday, and the past few days have been a blur. I'm so exhausted that I can't think and I've tried not to cry. I've been pretty successful until I read this post on my son's MySpace blog.
It's gonna be a long weekend trip to Oswego, KS
Liberating Plankton, part 1
5 days ago