Herself and Herself's Mom.

        
Tonight was the memorial service for Herself's mom. Herself asked me to speak. I did. I cried. I promised myself I wouldn't. I did anyway.

Here's what I said:

" My life is a good one and [Herself's Mom] had a lot to do with that. I am lucky to be in her family and I am proud to be her son-in-law.

Her kindness, consideration and obvious affection for her family are key elements of her personality. Her company was always a delight. I have always admired her perseverance, grace and poise.

She has provided me an excellent example of how to live well. She enjoyed the company of friends, the love of family and was always pleased by their presence. I know of no person who did not think highly of her.  All of these things come as no surprise to anyone who knew her.

As I wrote this, I imagined everyone nodding their heads in agreement. There is not enough ways to express how wonderful my mother-in-law is. I will treasure her memory, the example she has set and the lessons she has taught me. "

If you want to share the moment with me, proceed to cry like a baby right now. That's what I did.

...

I had walked to the podium crying.

"I promised myself I would be poised." I said.

"You are!" Said someone in the audience.

...

After the ceremony, we are inundated by well-wishers and I cry again and again to meet people for the first time who were touched by Herself's mom.

Later, we're at home. Multiple families and many generations are gathered as one. We all are hurting.

At one point, Herself is talking on about something to someone. My hand falls on her heel. We're on the couch, side by side. Her heel fits perfectly in the curve of my hand. I mean: Perfect!

At that moment, she's mine. I'm holding her heel. I don't think I've held anyone by their heel.

She knows I'm there. She smiles at me over her shoulder. She knows. She's mine. I'm hers. That's how it's supposed to work.

Good?

Good.

Somehow, together, we'll get through this.

--maddog