“I have the most perfect gift for you!” said my daughter-in-law Gail, practically shouting into the phone. “I’ll be right over!”
The call took me by surprise. From the time she married my son Michael, I’d thought of Gail as a daughter. We’d talk on the phone for hours, laughing till our stomachs hurt and we’d chat over her delicious family-style dinners. But then Gail and Michael divorced. I was heartbroken. They remained friends and I cared for her just as I always had. Yet, as time passed, she and I didn’t visit or talk on the phone as often. Did she still care as much for me, too?
While I waited for Gail, my thoughts drifted back to my own mother-in-law. I loved her like she was my mother. Everything I knew about being a good mother-in-law I learned from her. One year I wanted to give her something special, so I bought a cross-stitch from a craft store. It was decorated with a poem titled, “For His Mother,” praising wonderful mother-in-laws. I spent days stitching the purple thread, then set it in an oak frame. She loved it! It hung on her living room wall until she passed away. I hadn’t seen it after that.
Gail soon arrived at my door with a package under her arm. She came inside and tore off the plastic wrapping. “Isn’t it beautiful? I found it at a yard sale and it made me think of you.”
My mouth dropped. It was a cross-stitch of the poem, “For His Mother.”
“Oh, Gail! It’s perfect,” I said, ready to tell her of the similar cross-stitch I’d once made.
Then I looked closer. The purple thread. The worn oak frame. It was the very same cross-stitch I had given to my mother-in-law. No, I didn’t have to wonder how Gail felt about me anymore.
