For some reason, there have been constant examples of mother-in-law-daughter-in-law relationships in my life, and have been since I was a child.
At first it was the “wars” between my great-grandmother and my grandmother. My parents took me to my grandmother’s until I had a place in kindergarten, and there, in my grandmother’s apartment, I saw real hell. It was as if two completely different people lived in my grandmother’s apartment. One grandmother smiled at me affectionately, holding out goodies, told me fairy tales, and drew pictures with me. The other was angrily yelling at her bedridden mother-in-law, resenting the ordeal sent upon her and exclaiming in a phrase: “When are you going to die already?”
Great-grandmother died, we moved from our rented apartment to live with grandmother, and a new confrontation began – mother and grandmother. Sometimes the neighbors even came to us and asked us to keep it down. But the silence in the house never lasted long.
I was already a senior in high school when my grandmother was buried. Mom didn’t mourn on principle, and after nine days, she started a real revolution in the apartment, bagging up all of Grandma’s things, indiscriminately, and taking them to the trash can. When Dad came home from work, he was shocked by his wife’s attitude toward his already dead grandmother. Then they had a whole evening of arguing, which was probably the starting point for their divorce. Dad left us after six months…
Me and Cruz were married modestly, we could not rent an apartment, and even before the wedding, I realized that I would have to live with his mother. Before my eyes flashed scandals that I had witnessed, and I wanted to live with my mother-in-law normally, if not to be best friends, then at least not to make ugly scenes, and not shorten each other’s lives.
I set myself up for this kind of communication, and for about a year, gathering up all my patience, I did not respond to my mother-in-law’s taunts and nags about everything I did, cleaning, laundry, cooking, etc. Her vocabulary did not contain any harsh words, but she knew how to mock me professionally, making it clear that I was a total jerk and she was the queen.
After another “life lesson” from my mother-in-law, I decided to have a frank conversation with her. I bought a cake for the occasion, asked my husband to give us time to talk, and told my mother-in-law the stories of women’s relationships in my family. Then I suggested that she not go to the same scandals and problems, but that we start communicating from now on, at least as good neighbors.
My mother-in-law then interrupted me, pushed the cake away, and declared: “The mistress is the only one here, and you know who it is. I will communicate as I see fit. And the best option for you is not to communicate at all. That means walk in silence, and don’t let me see you again.
When my husband came in, he looked at me expectantly, but I silently shook my head in a negative way. But my mother-in-law jumped out of her room:
– Well, neighbor, is dinner ready for your husband?
I replied that with this attitude to me in my old age there will be no one to serve her dinner, and then it began! My husband tried to calm us down, but after a year of silence, I just burst out…
In order to keep the family together, we had to go to a rented apartment, as difficult as it was financially. Gradually we got back on our feet and were able to take out a loan to buy a house. During this time, my mother-in-law became seriously ill and needed constant care. I, remembering analogies from my childhood, categorically refused to be a caregiver.
I suggested my husband to find a family who would look after his mother, with the right to inherit the apartment, he, grudgingly, agreed. We experimented for a few months. With mother-in-law no one could get along for more than two weeks, we paid for the services of a caregiver, and people left, saying that with my grandmother just impossible to find common ground. Eventually a couple was found who survived the “ordeal” for two months. We made a contract with them, in which, in addition to inheriting the apartment, there was also provision for them to supervise how they would care for their mother-in-law.
I think I was not the problem in our relationship with her, since no one lined up for the apartment…
