Sons-In-Law

My son, Jud and my son-in-law, Curt.

One of my dearest friends has moved into our neighborhood. He is our eldest son, and I think he really likes me because he invited me, a few years ago, to spend 4 days in a canoe with him on the Louisiana Bayous. We paddled 52 miles together, and concluded that if our friendship could survive that, it could survive anything.

He invited me for coffee this morning. Just being with him in his nearby home made me happy. A few more inches of snow had fallen last night, and soon he was joined by a brother and brother-in law in a manly snow-removal ceremony.

My son Andy.

I think of the men who married my daughters as my sons, especially when I admire the brother-like bond between them and my sons. It is good that they are all friends.

But we are a family of competition and wit, and no son-in-law of mine is willing to give me up as "mother-in-law." The field of opportunities that I present for snickers and teasing is too fertile to us to consider each other anything but "in-laws."
Last evening, I had done several chores and sat down for a brief rest. My daughter and son-in-law came through our front door carrying a cold, wet poodle, stomping snow off their feet and saying, "Oh Teddy, poor Teddy, did Grandma leave you out in the freezing snow again?"
Their story was they were driving by and saw Teddy running up and down the sidewalk on frozen legs looking for shelter in a blizzard.
My son-in-law will be milking that story for years, especially after he saw the note on the inside of the front door admonishing me not to forget Yumi, the other dog we're caring for right now.

I realized that Teddy had followed me an hour or so earlier when I had gone out to feed the birds and squirrels. Then I remembered to feed Baby and Pearl, the inside birds, and that reminded me that there were clothes in the dryer, and while I was in the basement my phone rang.

So Hillary was right. It takes a village. But she failed to say why. It's because there are aging women like me who mean well, but forget easily what they're doing. Our families mop up after our goof-ups, and sons-in-law are there to help and then tease us about it.

So, sons-in-law, although I love you as my own, I cannot take away your true titles.  I won 't deny you my remaining years of feeble mistakes, screw-ups and fall-downs. And I can still write about your shortcomings, which I will do as soon as I let Teddy out.