Outlaws and Inlaws

My daughter-in-law. Hmmmm
My daughter-in-LAW. Hmmmm
My daughter-IN-LAW. Hmmmm

I once had the opportunity to attend a wedding in Mumbai. Of all the awesome memories that I carried away from the experience, there is one that stands out. That I have thought about time and time again. The nearly day-long ceremony was just finished and one of the Hindu priests stood talking with HH and me. He was about our age, with vibrant brown-green eyes, and spoke beautiful English. He had a gentle way of speaking with a firm undertone that made it clear that gentleness is not to be confused with weakness. He was a man of firm beliefs.

He spoke to us of marriage. Covenant marriage, something that HH and I treasure as part of our Catholic faith. And he explained to us about the various ceremonial pieces of the beautiful rite we had just been a part of as our dear friends Shailesh and Pragati married. And then he said, that if we believe in covenant marriage there is NO "in-law". You cannot say that marriage is sacramental and more than a contract between two people and then reduce the relationship of one of the people in the marriage to a legalistic term. In a much more beautiful way than I can express he said "If Shailesh is your son, then Pragati cannot be your daughter-in-law. She is your daughter, fully in your heart."

I can not let that conversation go, even though it happened more than a year ago. Every time I write, or say, "my daughter in law, Kristen", I am mentally given a nudge by my conscience.

Authenticity is important to me. Being who I say I am. Making my behavior match my values. And that Hindu priest challenged me (as I'm sure he meant to). I do authentically believe in marriage as a sacrament. Marriage is more than "in-law" to me. And I am darned lucky about that! I am certain that if HH were given an easy opportunity to either fine me or call the contract broken for failure to live up to the terms he'd have just cause! Instead, he's just said the short prayer ("God Help Me") and kept on loving me through thick and thin (and thicker, and thicker...)

Kristen is a wonderful woman. I can not imagine a more perfect spouse for my son. She is not the daughter that grew under my heart for nearly 9 months - that is my sweet Emily. She is the daughter that grew in my son's heart. And he brought her to me, and my life, as a blessing and a gift.

I did not have the opportunity to see Kristen's first steps, hear her first words, bandage her scraped knees or wipe away tears as she matured through disagreements with friends, disappointments, and hurts from first love. I didn't get to see her in her white baptismal gown, first communion dress, or prom dress. I didn't get to set her curfew, tell her that I didn't care if all-the-other-parents-were-allowing-it, or enjoy the whiplash of teaching her how to drive. But, are those the essentials in making a mother, or a daughter?

As a lover of words, I turned to the authority: Webster. Not helpful. "Mother (noun): the female parent." Well, duh. There must be more. And then I found it, the broader definition: "Mother (noun): bearing a relation like that of a mother, as in being the origin, source or protector." Oh yesssssss.

My children, though adults, all know about the "Momma Bear". That side of me that comes out when I perceive harm or potential harm to one of my offspring. Hold me back, I'm gonna take the threat down! Have I felt that for Kristen? Oh yeah.....don't get me started on when I think she is being mistreated. For instance, her work environment...like forfeiting lunch for over a year so that she could use those minutes to pump breast milk (in the friggin bathroom!) for a full year. My blood still boils.

Then daughter. "Daughter (noun): a person related as if by the ties binding daughter to parent" Ah! There is the crux. What are those ties that bind us as parent to daughter (son)? Clearly more than umbilical. Every adopted child knows that. And it turns out there is research into this very question. And that a source no less than the prestigious NY Times has a recent article on the topic. http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/17/fashion/the-family-stories-that-bind-us-this-life.html?smid=pl-share

The short answer (in case you don't want to read all of the above) - shared stories. Shared knowledge about who we are, where we come from, and where we are going. The understanding of what we bring to our shared being, and a desire to continue through the ups and downs of life as a part of a larger whole. To want to write the future stories together and relish the stories of the past (and embellish them as necessary). It is knowing the sagas of "shampoop", broken arms, cutting a childhood friend's hair, naming your grandmother, and just how long labor can last. It is understanding the terms "brown babies", "plan for the day", and "ironic". Yes, those are the ties that bind.

So, daughter-in-law, good-bye. You are only a daughter. You get no extra initials. Consider it a demotion, promotion, or one of life's little horrifying moments. I'll let your sister, Emily give you the lowdown on the burdens that accompany that role. But, here's a teaser: two words. Chin. Hair.

Love you,
Mimi