Missing Rosie

Most of my girlfriends would love to be in my shoes. (No, probably not literally since I wear a size 10.) But, from our conversations, I understand most could live without their mothers-in-law.

Let’s face it; they get a bad rap. From comedy skits to clichéd romance flicks, the mother-in-law is cast in a less-than-positive light. JLo even starred in a movie where they dubbed the opposing role her Monster-in-Law.

But, if you ask me, they couldn’t be more wrong. I would give just about anything to still have mine be here right now.

This week marked Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Day at my son’s school. Combined with the one-year anniversary of her death from the disease, all I can think of is how much I miss her.

As my son climbed aboard his bus, dressed head-to-toe in his sister’s purple clothes, he told everyone that would listen why he was doing it. He was honoring his Rosie. He missed her. And he wanted to remember her today by wearing purple.

He must have looked ridiculous to others, wearing lavender girls’ clothing, but he didn’t mind. He took a lot of harassment on the bus ride from school, but he wanted to do what he wanted to do. He wanted to honor his grandmother. I was so proud of him.

Margaret Rose Treacy, better known to all of our family as “Rosie” (including her young grandchildren), is missed by us all. She was a pretty great mother-in-law to me. And, when the world ended for her family on Memorial Day weekend 2010, I wanted to be there for my husband and his family.

I spent the following weeks making sure my kids understood what was happening, that my husband was comforted, that his family had support. I ran errands, and cleaned and cooked for incoming Irish family. I helped prepare photo boards of our happy memories. I kept busy.

When tragedy strikes, that is what I am good at. I am a mom, and I take care of things. I get things done.

What I don’t do is mourn. I don’t pour out my own emotions, and most of the time I don’t even slow down long enough to think about them at all. I just keep moving, and if I just wash enough dishes and bake enough dinners, I won’t have to face my own emotions. I don’t think I ever did.

I think I empathized with my husband. I think I showed him support and love. I kept thinking I couldn’t imagine losing my own mother, and how amazingly hard this must have been for him.

But, I don’t know if I thought about what I was missing.

I miss my mother-in-law. I miss calling her and not understanding half of our conversation because of her thick Irish brogue. I miss her telling me when I am one pound toward my goal weight, and having her be the first and only one ever to notice how hard I was working to lose it.

I equally miss her telling me when my acne broke out on my face, or when my rear was just a tad too wide, too.

I miss Rosie making me strawberry desserts for years, even though I am allergic to them. I miss her mashed potatoes. I miss her perfume. I miss her talks with me.

I miss seeing her with my kids. I am most sad for them. I cry just thinking about the days they won’t get to spend with her. The first graduations, weddings, babies. I was blessed to have all of my grandparents really be at each of those days for me, and my children will never have that with Rosie. Just one year has gone by, and it seems like an eternity. She has missed so much.

I am angry. I am angry she had to be taken so quickly from us. I am angry that we have cars that can run on electric, and phones that serve as cameras, computers and GPS devices, but we don’t have a cure for cancer. It makes me mad.

I miss my mother-in-law. Just one year has passed since she was taken to heaven. We are lucky to have that angel watching over us, but we miss her here every moment of every day that she’s not with us.  

So the next time you think your mother-in-law is butting in or over-involved in your life, or the next time she offers her unsolicited advice or argues with you about how you raise your own children, just stop, and give her a hug for me.

I can’t hug my mother-in-law. And, I miss her terribly. I wish that I could. Just remember, these people in your life, the good and the bad, they aren’t here for long. Appreciate them before they are gone.

Until we get to see her again, we’ll remind our children about the stories of their loving grandmother. We’ll tell the ones that make us laugh, and the happy, loving memories we have of her. We will share her with them, so they can “know” her, too.

But I, I am going to be a selfish mom for a moment, and I will think of myself.

I miss my mother-in-law. I said it. And, I am sad. And, I’m going to cry.

I’m a writer. And this, these black-typed words on a stark white screen, these words may be just the mourning I was due to have. I miss you Rosie, and I love you.