12/365

My mother-in-law, Sandy Holliday, could mix metaphors better than most anyone I've ever known. "She's one sharp cookie," she told me after our oldest daughter brought home a stellar report card. She loved country music and Elvis. And Christmas. Oh, how she loved Christmas! She loved celebrating Christmas so much that one year she just never put away the tree and it stayed up in her Victorian living room all year long, to this very day. She loved teapots and doilies and the color dusty rose. She loved antique stores and flea markets and craft fairs. She loved her grandkids (there's around 18? but maybe I'm forgetting someone?) and could be so very generous with them, even to the point of allowing different kids to live in their home for a season. She endured the chaos of having her huge clan invade the house for the massive annual Thanksgiving dinner, and was so proud that the tables to fit everyone now extended across the span of the basement. And her dogs! She loved her dogs and treated them like little furry people.

We've never lived in the same place as my in-laws so we have always had to exchange letters and calls and then email and text. For the longest time, every single time we would call, she would answer the phone with "we were just thinking about calling you!" And I really do believe that was true. My mother-in-law never disguised her emotions well and she wore her heart on her sleeve. But as she suffered with chronic kidney problems for many years, she persevered mightily. With incredible discipline, over the last several years she controlled her diet and delayed dialysis much longer than doctors thought was possible. We were all so grateful when she received a kidney transplant in the late spring this year, though we knew our joy came as another family mourned.

And now, much too quickly, it is our turn to mourn, again. Surrounded by family (and I know that she was happy about that because she loved when all her family was together), my dear mother-in-law passed away today. She leaves a hole that will not be filled, but we also have so many sweet and funny memories to share. It's a hard season for my family. Tonight I'm thinking the words of a familiar hymn, and though sorrows like sea billows roll, even so, it is well with my soul.