And I am humming the Eddie K. Doe song, "Mother-in-Law”. It
makes me laugh but in truth it’s a dilemma for a recovering woman. Here I am,
every day, praying for God’s will and to surrender my will and to see God in
everything and to be kind and caring and generous and gracious and then I want
to kill this woman!
It feels tricky too because I am torn between just going
along and getting along and the other part of my recovery which is taking care
of myself and saying “No”, and “No, thank you”, and “I would prefer…”
We struggle with food—she’s a fabulous cook—but I am trying
to eat more healthfully. Her feelings are hurt if we don’t clean our plates. I’m
tempted to put a baggie in my lap and sneak my dinner into the trash. But being
reduced to that version of codependence is my wake-up call.
Yesterday I had this revelation: If she told me that her feelings
would be hurt if I didn’t try her favorite cocktail I’d be thinking, “Oh well,
you gonna feel bad.” I wouldn’t take a drink to please a hostess so why eat to
please one?
But there is another side to this too: I am a mother-in-law
as well. Visiting my mother-in-law makes me much better when the shoe—or the quiche—is
on the other foot.
I’m counting my blessings: my mother-in-law does not drink
and she’s in good health and she lives in a very beautiful place. But I’m
heading to Nordstrom where the shoes are not booze and the fragrances are not
cake and I can find a souvenir to take home to New York!
No comments:
Post a Comment