Gone But Not Forgotten

I needed to write this blog post as blogging is meant to be cathartic, and if I was ever in need of some catharsis, it’s this week.

My mother-in-law died on Sunday afternoon, aged only 64.  My husband, sister-in-law and father-in-law are understandably devastated.

She had been ill for some time and was in hospital but her health deteriorated much more rapidly than anyone expected, so it was a shock and the family are raw in the aftermath.

I don’t really know what I expected to feel when she died; deeply saddened to see people who I love in pain, upset that my kids and niece have lost their grandma and outraged that she was too young, obviously.  I’ve also never watched anyone die before and it was traumatic, to say the least.

But did I expect to feel any personal grief?  Not really, if I’m completely honest.

I know that sounds like a terrible thing to say, but we had a ‘difficult’ relationship and clashed over certain things on a number ofÂ= occasions.  Despite that, though, I’d go so far as to say that for several years we were friends, most of the time, and shared a mutual respect.

Then my husband and I had children and everything changed, because I became ‘A Mum’, complete with all the instincts to protect and defend my kids at any cost and bloody well tear a strip off anyone perceived to have wronged them in any way, intentionally or not.

Unfortunately, one day, nearly three years ago, I felt that my mother-in-law was guilty of doing just that.  Tensions had been mounting for a while but that day was the metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back.  I was pregnant, hormonal and I let rip.  And being a strong, opinionated woman too, so did she.

She came round a couple of weeks later and we talked about it at length.  And yet whilst I appreciated her holding out the olive branch first, I stayed angry for a long, long time…until she got poorly, really.

I’m glad to say that in the last few months before her death we’d become more amicable, had come to some sort of understanding and managed to get along well enough to share family meals and sit together at events involving the kids.

The anger had receded and one thing we talked about a lot was this blog.  She was a loyal fan, ‘liking’ every post, commenting occasionally and telling me it was, ‘bloody funny’.  I know she truly meant it, but I think maybe she was also trying to make amends for what had gone before.  If that’s the case, it may not have completely restored our relationship but it helped, and I’m grateful for it.

So this one’s for you, Lynne.  We had our differences, we didn’t always like each other very much and we fell out, sometimes spectacularly.  But we were also family, not blood related but inextricably linked because of our shared love for the same people.

We were also part of each other’s lives for nearly fifteen years and shared good times, laughs and family milestones together and because of that, despite the rocky road our relationship sometimes took, I’m genuinely going to miss you.

Rest in peace, Lynne.