Just when I have lived long enough to think I know something I get the
"ackkkk, ackkkk, ackkkk," of reality screaming at me, "You know nothing!"

When I register this year to vote I will write down my affiliation with the No-Nothing Party.

My first In-Law degree happened when I married my husband.  He introduced me to his parents at a restaurant and I had agreed to marry this lovely man with three small children that his ex-wife had left behind for him to raise while she took the house, the car, the money, the cat, ....  His mother replied in a way I have never seen before or since.  Her face began to melt as she reached for her scotch on the rocks and then she began to assume the form of Edvard Munch's "The Scream", as her mouth opened wide and shouted, "Nooooooooooooooooo......" Her scream resembled a wounded creature in the jungle that no human has laid eyes on, or maybe that's what Sasquatch sounds like.  I was so stunned, I dropped my fork and headed for the car.  I remember sitting in the cold Volvo waiting for my fiance to return.  He did. We married.

I took the children to visit her at her home the following Easter without my husband in tow.  She did love her grandchildren.  The kids were watching TV, ages four, six and eight.  I was with them and our new baby, as she entered the room, armed with her Bible for Easter Sunday, her morning scotch on ice and a cigarette burning with an ash a long as her little finger.

"I'm going to church," she proclaimed, " I still can't believe that my Son married you, you are obviously the worst choice he could have made to raise these beautiful children."

I was sober, not even caffienated, and I approached her quietly. " I have done my very best to be a kind and gentle mother to your grandchildren.  I am sorry, but it is hard enough to bond with them without you grandstanding in front of them on Easter Morning sharing your thoughts about my value as a mother.  We will be leaving now."   And we did.

The last time I saw her, she was very old, had survived strokes, a double mascetomy, outlived everyone she knew, save her children and grandchildren, and had my brother-in-law's children stepping and fetching her scotch and cigarettes to her on her deathbed.  I was amazed that she could still keep a two-inch ash on her cigarette.  She wasn't kind, but I was quiet and let her say good-bye to her grandchildren.   I was in my early forties and I thought I had survived in-laws.

A few years later, our middle son brought his intended home for dinner.  Both seniors in college they were ready to tie the knot.  We had a lovely meal and I thought she was charming.  She shared that she had lost her mother to cancer, she was helping to raise her youngest brother because she was estranged from her father.  I offered to throw the wedding for her, she accepted gratefully, and my son said thank you.  I happily gave them the money and let her plan her special day.  They asked for a little more for a photographer and some other things they had forgotten about, again I happily obliged.

The wedding went off and I saw about 75 of her relations at the reception, and as weddings are, it was a bit of a whirlwind and off they went into the sunset.  I felt great.  I had helped our son have the wedding he wanted.

As they were still seniors, we helped with money for rent and other necessities, happy to see both graduate and be on their way. She had a miscarriage, and I tried to console her with some flowers, a visit and some words of encouragement.

The following month our Son arrived with his wife and asked for additional financial help.  My husband offered a job that our Son could do online for my husband as we knew he had graduated, or so we thought.  One credit shy, he left school and was finding it hard to make ends meet.  She had a degree in Education, but did not want to teach while she was trying to get pregnant.  The additional financial help was starting to smell like old fish.  She then took me aside and asked me to purchase a 2500.00 rocking chair for her as she was most likely pregnant.  I shared with her that I was not in a position to buy an expensive chair, as I had used my retirement fund to help with the wedding, but that I was willing to shop for something a little less expensive.  Bang!  It was Deja Vu! It's amazing how many women can change into Munch's "Scream" like turning on a light switch.  She charged me with being cheap.  I shared with her that I really wanted to help, I just could not afford the chair she desired.   Then our Son, called us a few choice words, tore up his father's rather nice check, and as they stormed out, she shouted, "You will never see your Grandchildren!"

I looked at my husband in disbelief.  Surely, this can't be happening, she will call in a few hours and change her mind.  The only thing I heard for the next few days were the "Cheep-Cheep" of the crickets.  She never called.  I have never spoken with her again.  Have never seen any wedding photos.

The Grandchildren are eight and six now.  They visit our Son's birth mother and we have never seen them.  My husband is cordial with his Son, but I have decided to take a time out, another In-Law Rehab, if you will.  I am afraid that if I meet the children, our only grandchildren to date, I will dissolve and be at risk again to be hurt should she find fault with me again.

So...I thought all of my In-Law education had been completed.  I was at peace. And my husband and I agree that better peace in our home together than any friction or fighting over little ones who are not at fault.

Then this summer, my f0rmal education in In-Law studies, my mother-in-law being my undergraduate degree, my daughter-in-law being my graduate degree was now beginning again in earnest...I was about to earn my Phd., and I didn't want one.

My youngest Son came home from college proclaiming true love.  I was happy for him because he has a soft side, and had been treated badly by girls in the past. "This is the one Mom!"  We want to get married before fall semester starts!  This time I became Edvard Munch's "Scream".  My face melted, and I yowled a sound I have never hear before....."Nooooooooooo!"  That's what I wanted to do, and I know why women do it now.  Instead, I said, " Son, can't this wait until you graduate?"

"Oh no, Mom, she's it, I can't wait!"

"How long have you known her?"

"A couple of days, and she's leaving for a semester abroad, and then we'll get married this summer."

Knowing that forbidden fruit often seems more delicious, I said, "Well, I am very happy for you, when do we get to meet her."

"Well, she's back in Wyoming, getting ready to go on her Semester abroad, so you can meet her when she gets back this summer."

I thought I had a reprieve.

Anyway, we met, but the parents were to busy to see us, so we waited, and waited.  The wedding was scheduled for August and I still had not met the parents.  Finally I get a call from my Son,

"Mom, can you come quick and meet us for Dinner?"

"Son, it is 5 o'clock and your Dad is out of town."

"This is the only time they have Mom, please."

So I went.  And it began.  I was told that the wedding would be in Billings, Montana, and the reception would be the next day, 3 1/2 hours away in Yellowstone at the Lake Lodge and Hotel.  But there are no more rooms available because they had booked them for thier family.  We made small talk, found that both the Mother-in-Law and I studied Russian in College and she had a degree in Russian.  I spoke a simple phrase to her in Russian so we could chat and  have fun, and she retorted, that she couldn't remember any Russian at all.

In our Church, before a couple is married, the Groom is Ordained as a Priestholder.  It is a rite of passage and the Ordination is administered by the Father of the Groom.  It is held in the Chapel on the Sabbath.  It is a solemn and divine occassion.  Two days before the Ordianation, our Son called at 5 in the afternoon and proclaimed that he was going to be ordained by his intended Father-In-Law at their daughters house twenty minutes from our home, becuase they were too busy to stay for the Sunday Ordination that we had planned.  We said, please don't do it, why are they not consulting with us, we can't make it in two hours, plus we have invited family and friends on Sunday.  My son capitulated, was ordained by the girls father, and I rushed over to support him.

After the Ordination, or Sandbagging, as I refer to it, I asked for the invitations as we were now four weeks out from the wedding.

The Mother-in Law asked for a sample of my handwriting and if it wasn't good enough, she would have to address them.

"Excuse Me?" I shuddered with anger.  "I will not submit a sample of my handwriting to you.  May I please have some invitations."

"Well, we are sending out 500, so I only have 50 f0r you, and I would rather that you give me the addresses and I will send them out."

"I am asking you once more for the invitations, may I please have them now so that I might leave."

"Well, I guess, Audible Sigh, that we will just have to stop everything and count out your invitations."

They counted, I waited, and looked at my Son.  I was beginning to feel steam coming out of my ears.  I got the invites, said thank you, and left.

I left for Florida the following morning, to visit my ailing parents for a week.

When I returned home a week later the invitations were missing from my study.  I queried my son, and he said that I had taken too long, and they had asked him to return them.  These were not RSVP, just announcements.

Now my Irish rose up in me.

I didn't have a phone number for her, but I had an e-mail address.

I sent a message concerning the Ordination, the Invitations and the stunning turn of events.

She returned my e-mail and asked to meet so that she could explain in terms that a small child could understand why they were doing the right thing.

I returned her e-mail and shared that we were beyond conversation, that my husband, who had already been humiliated enough by the  Sandbagging  of the Ordination, was not interested in attending the wedding, and that I was following suit.  We regretfully chose not to attend the wedding in Montana nor the reception in Yellowstone.

The most difficult thing I have ever done in my life.  But the behavior has continued to escalate.  The day my Son finished his summer finals, yesterday, they came to take him on a Pack Trip for ten days in the wilds of Wyoming which gives him two days to get ready for the wedding, and no time with us.

My husband and I spent yesterday with our Son hand-delivering announcements to close friends and sharing our decision with him.  We will have a quiet ceremony with him and his bride when he returns in September or October and the dust has settled.  This ceremony  and the reception that follows will be for everyone who cannot attend this whirlwind event in Montana and Yellowstone.  It will be quiet and civil, and my Son is looking forward to it.

We tried to help him by lettting him know he could say no to the Pack Trip, as he wasn't asked to go, he was told.  He does not enjoy camping and does not ride.  He is on his way.  I feel that I almost have my Phd., but all I know is that it is all a work in progress, and even when you quit....life after quitting, or changing, or trying to find peace, doesn't always mean others do. But Quitting feels better than pretending.