by Lynn Mandaville

This Sunday, all over the United States, many Americans will be celebrating that best and worst of holidays, Mothers Day.

For some of the population, this is the day they declare their love for their mothers, whether it is genuine or not. For some it is a truly joyful celebration of the love of children for their mothers. For others, the day is a painful reminder that their mothers are no longer with them, or, worse, she is and that’s not necessarily a good thing. Regardless of the camp one falls into, a lot of commerce is done in flowers and gifts to commemorate the day.

In my family, Mothers Day has always been an intentionally ignored holiday.  My Ma believed it was a product of the same eastern syndicate that brought us the modern Christmas. Had we celebrated it beyond the point where we made her cards in elementary school, it would have pissed her off. In my little nuclear family the sentiment is the same.

(Truth be told, I used to get really annoyed when anyone other than my kids wished me “Happy Mothers Day.” I’d respond, snidely, that I was not the person’s mother. My husband scolded me for being rude, so now I smile sweetly, and say thank you, same to you. And I mean it.) 

Ordinarily I wouldn’t bring up Mothers Day at all. But this year I must.

When my son, Randy, married Laura in 2011 he won the mother-in-law lottery.

In fact, I’d say he won the Mother-in-Law Power Ball. 

When Randy graduated from high school he left home and joined the Navy. He was stationed in San Diego, where he met his future wife. During all those years that they dated and lived together, neither Randy nor we could afford to travel cross country for major holidays or milestone celebrations like birthdays.

That’s where Laura’s mom, Nancy, stood in as a second mom for Randy.

When Randy had a birthday, she sent a card and made a fuss. When he graduated from San Diego State, she helped Laura with the big party and made sure there was a gift from her and her husband, Jim. (We did make the trip for that one.)

On Thanksgiving, Randy always had a seat at their table, and at Christmas there was always a present or two under the tree for him. She made him included, and loved, and part of their family.

After Randy and Laura were married (Nancy was his biggest cheerleader when he asked for Laura’s hand) and moved to Arizona to be near them as they started their own family, Nancy made herself available more than frequently to provide the very best, most trustworthy child care possible.

She has praised him for his devotion as a father, and his attentiveness as a husband. She has been a trooper at not being a butt-insky when it comes to their parenting of the boys. (A Herculean task, I know first-hand!) She remembers his birthday, and mentions him with other family members on Veteran’s Day, thankful that he gave four years to the country.

In short, Nancy has been just about the best mother-in-law a guy could ask for.

It’s true that Nancy is the kind of woman who, without meaning to, makes me feel insecure by comparison. She has a multitude of fine qualities, talents and gifts. And she’d be embarrassed if I were to list them all. (Humility is among her attributes.)

But I never envied her for her special relationship with my baby boy, because she has loved him the way I do, and appreciated him for the man he has become. I always liked that he had two families so he wouldn’t miss us as much as we missed him.

I once asked my dad about the official relationship between the parents of married people. Were he and my Ma the in-laws to my husband’s parents? He said, typical of my dad, that they weren’t a damn thing to each other. But, he added, in his iconoclastic way, if I had to call them something, he thought out-laws might do.

So this is my Mothers Day tribute to the other woman in my son’s life (aside, of course, from his wife, who is marvelous in her own right).

Thank you, Nancy, for all that you have meant to Randy, and all that you have come to mean to us.

You are my favorite out-law!

Happy Mothers Day!