My Best Friend




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" March 4, 2003 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart" You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. To subscribe send a blank e-mail to subscribe@write2theheart.com. ------------------------------------------------------------ Sometimes we chose our friends, sometimes they chose us. Then there are the lucky girls who marry and gain a new family and a best friend. ------------------------------------------------------------ My Best Friend By Barbara Elliott Carpenter ------------------------------------------------------------ A wife is not supposed to like her mother-in-law, much less love her. I don't know why. It just seems that so many mother-in-law jokes are heartless and disrespectful, even downright mean. I didn't know what to expect when I got married. My fiancé's mother had always been nice and considerate to me, and I really liked her. She treated me as she did her daughter, who was still a child. But still, she was my mother-in-law. When I became pregnant, she was solicitous and kind; and when I miscarried at three months, my mother-in-law cried with me, actually more than my husband did. It was then I learned that she had also miscarried her first baby at three months, and gave birth to a stillborn son when my husband was six years old. A few months later, I was pregnant again. This time I carried to term and while I was in labor, my mother-in-law sat beside me in the labor room. She held my hand and put cool cloths on my forehead. She sent my frantic husband out to wash his car, so that we "women-folk" could carry out the business of giving birth. She was one of the first to see my little six-pound/twelve-ounce baby girl, and I will never forget the look of joy on that new grandma's face. My mother-in-law was the one I called when I my baby was sick, and the one who took care of our little girl when my son was born two years later. She was my baby-sitter, my caregiver when I was ill, the one I ran to when her son had hurt my feelings. At those times her comment was," Well, Honey, I raised him, so I guess some of the blame is mine." She never once criticized me or complained to my husband about me. I learned to cook from her. She taught me how to make cornbread with real buttermilk. How to season green beans, cabbage and other vegetables to make them incredibly good. But, hard as I tried, I could never match her pies. She made Her chocolate and coconut cream pies with real cream and half and half. Her pumpkin pie, made with lots of eggs and cream, melted in the mouth. Her custard pie was as smooth as silk and never weeped. Her pies were the absolute best! Time passed. My children grew and my mother-in-law attended ball games, music programs, recitals, and movies with me and my husband. The joy of her life was to watch her children and grandchildren sing or perform sports or music. We grew closer over the years, and sometimes I forgot that she wasn't MY mother! More time passed. I watched her become arthritic and battle spinal stenosis, Her pain was horrendous, but she still managed to mow her three-acre lawn. She said that riding her John Deere didn't hurt her at all. Her husband died and she continued to live alone. She endured three abdominal surgeries during a four year period and a fourth one for an overactive parathyroid gland, followed by a stroke that affected her speech, but nothing else. I found myself in the role of caregiver, a role I considered an honor. She fell in September 2002, and broke her left elbow and wrist. A metal stabilizing devise was attached and screwed into her arm in four places. It was my job to change the dressing every day and make sure there was no infection. Much as she hated for me to, I bathed her and helped with her shower. She was always afraid that she was a burden, which she never was. She refused to allow us to stay with her, and she would not stay with us; so we checked on her several times a day and set up a time every morning that she would call me. It worked well. On November 2, 2002, I went into her house and found her leaning over the kitchen sink, deathly ill. I called 911 immediately, and then called for my husband. Within minutes help had arrived. She had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, and at 7 P.M. the next day, November 3, she passed away without suffering, without even a whimper. I was devastated, as was our whole family. I was with her the most, and it was weeks before I could get through a day without crying for her. The woman was my best friend, my support system, my sounding board, my mentor, my teacher...she was my mother in every way except blood...and I still miss her. Just days before she died, she wanted me to take down notes on some changes she wanted to make in her will nothing big, just some things she wanted done. I laughed and said, "You should have someone besides me do this. I'm just your daughter-in-law." "Honey," she said, "I've never thought of you as my daughter-in-law. You've just always been my Barb." And we laughed. "Don't ever die," I told her. "It would be just too much trouble to take care of all this stuff." "Don't worry," she told me. "I think I have ten or twelve more years." Little did we know that six days later she would leave us. She was eighty-eight years old, going on twenty-one. My mother-in-law was one of the greatest blessings in my life, and I was fortunate to be her daughter-in-law for nearly forty-four years. Every girl should be so lucky! Barbara Elliott Carpenter bjlogger @ sbcglobal.net You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses and email harvesting programs. Have a comment on today's story? Send it to: moderator@write2theheart.com ---------------------------------------------------------------- Barbara Carpenter loves to garden, read, spend time with her two children and four grandchildren, and WRITE! She and her daughter, Rebecca, sing together at the church they attend and are planning their second studio recording. Barbara has written many stories and articles. Her first book, titled, STAR LIGHT, STAR BRIGHT..., will be available in mid-April to mid-June. -------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------- Letters From Our Readers -------------------------------------------------------------- I just love Pamela's stories! Also I know what you mean about pay back time Cheryl, I see it happening to our grown kids...if it wasn't so sad at times it would be funny! I do have to laugh at times because some of it is really funny!! Betty King www.betty.newsmoose.com I was wrinkling my nose as I read Pamela's story. I could just imagine the smell. I know I would have brewed the tea in the same way. Kim --------------------------------------------------------------- Military Prayer Reminder --------------------------------------------------------------- As you read over this list of names, please take that moment to pray for these young people and their families: Chris Speir, Tim Speir, Howard, Alan, Thaddeaus, and Jessie. If you have loved ones in the military, or who are being called to go overseas, send their names (first and last or first only) to be included in our prayer reminder. --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner There is nothing that makes you appreciate your own pets like caring for someone else's. We are watching grandson Drew's puppy while he is at Disney World. Sassy is a cute lab mix. She is very undisciplined. Every time the back door is opened, she darts inside. No one is fast enough to stop her. Unfortunately, she leaks every time someone comes near her or speaks to her. Ugh, cleaning puppy puddles is not on my list of favorite things to do. God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- © 2003 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. All rights belong to the authors.