Pssst... pass it on...

…and pink at her husband’s memorial gathering.

Message received, loud and clear.

What’s even better is, for my wedding, my mother-in-law had initially purchased a sort of blue-gray dress, and she brought it to my mother’s house to try it on and show us all the night before the wedding. Which was a little strange, since we’re not a try-it-on kind of bunch as a general rule, but my mother-in-law seemed like she was making an effort at some girl-bonding or something, so we thought it was nice. Then she went to the mall on the morning of the wedding, and showed up in a black dress. Warms the very cockles of my heart.

And, yeah. At my father-in-law’s memorial this weekend, she wore a bright pink shirt, not so tight as to be provocative but tight enough to emphasize fashion over decorum. And when we weren’t effusive enough (read: didn’t say a word) about how she looked, she started complaining about how she felt like such a cow in that shirt and she wished she had worn something else. Which succeeded in garnering a number of personal compliments, and therefore allowed her to both wear something un-funeral-like (even my kids were more conservatively dressed) *and* to feel justified and stroked for having done so.

Fantastic.

There are plenty more stories from the weekend, but they all fall into the same theme of not-making-plans and frustrating-and-confusing, no reason to get all repetitive there.

Oh! But I almost forgot! My favorite of my mother-in-law’s speeches from the weekend (and I should interrupt myself here to say that I worked very hard to avoid her as much as politely possible the whole time, because I wanted to minimize the number of new things I could be irritated about) was, whenever anyone asked her how she was doing – and at the memorial for her not-quite-ex-husband, people asked that a LOT – she replied, “Well, it’s been two months of hell. Two months of hell.”

Way to buck up and act strong, there, C.

And, really? Two months of hell? Seems to me like perhaps losing a husband after 30 years of marriage would, indeed, be a difficult thing, but complicated by the fact that she had filed for divorce and was two weeks shy of finalization, and complicated by the fact that while he was alive she could barely bring herself to speak civilly to or about him. And then there’s the thing where he was ill for a few weeks prior to death, so she and her sons had time to prepare themselves and say good-bye. So, yeah, I’ll give it to you, it’s been a difficult couple of months – but hell? Really? I can flip open the newspaper and find any number of truly hellish experiences there any day of the week.

Sigh. Ohhhhmmmmmmmm…

We won’t be crossing paths before Thanksgiving at the earliest. I’ll be enjoying my reprieve.

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