I love blogs. Mine because I can put
to ‘paper’ all the crazy things that pop into my head & everyone else’s
because people & all their thoughts & their words & their stories are
fascinating. Truly.
Recently, I read a blog article, written by Glennon Doyle
Melton with a beautiful mention of a story by the late Maya Angelou. It is by far the most
honest, transparent explanation of precious delicacy of the
mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship.
I’m attaching part of it here
because it is bring tears to your eyes good:
“Maya Angelou recently shined a
light into the dark part of my heart where I keep my relationship with my
mother in law.
In her latest book, Letter
to my Daughter, Angelou writes about a dinner party she attended during her
first trip to Senegal at the home of a very rich and sophisticated friend. As
Angelou explored the decadent home and observed the elegant guests, she noted
that they were all carefully stepping around the beautiful, expensive rug in
the middle of the floor to avoid dirtying it. She became appalled that her
hostess would be so elitist and shallow as to value her things above her
guests’ comfort and convenience. Angelou decided to act. She stepped onto the
rug and walked back and forth several times. The guests, who were “bunched up
on the sidelines, smiled at her weakly.” Angelou smiled back, proud that
through her boldness they might also be “encouraged to admit that rugs were to
be walked on.”
She then joined the guests on the
sidelines, her head held high. She had done what was right.
A few minutes later, the servants
came out and quietly removed the rug from the floor, replacing it with an
equally expensive one. They then proceeded to place the plates, glasses, wine
and bowls of rice and chicken carefully upon the new rug. Angelou’s hostess
clapped her hands and announced joyfully that they were serving Senegal’s most
beloved meal “for our Sister from America, Maya Angelou.” She then asked all
the guests to sit. Angelou’s face burned.
She had dragged her dirty shoes all
over her gracious hostess’ tablecloth.
Angelou concluded her story with
this:
“In an unfamiliar culture, it is
wise to offer no innovations, no suggestions or lessons. The epitome of
sophistication is utter simplicity.”
When Craig and I first got
married, I experienced his family as an unfamiliar culture. They operated so
differently than mine did. Communication was different, celebrations were
different, meal times were different, expressions of love were different. I
found this to be unacceptable. To me, different meant wrong. I became, as I
always do, personally offended and perpetually suspicious. In a
million subtle and not-so subtle ways, I tried to change my in-laws. I
suggested new traditions, I offered advice, I found fault with their
personalities and marriage and their relationships with their children and
grandchildren. I insisted that Craig and I pull away from them, based on the
unforgivable sin that they were different from my family.
I dragged my dirty shoes all over my
mother-in-law’s tablecloth. The one she’d spent decades carefully weaving.
My mother-in-law handled all of this
gracefully, in retrospect. Tragically, retrospectively is the only way I can
ever see things clearly. I imagine my refusal to accept her family hurt her
deeply, but she gave Craig and me time and space to work it out on our own. She
never pushed us. She never meddled. She bowed out, for a long while. It must
have been a hard decision, one I pray I never have to make with my own son. I
pray that my future daughter-in-law will be wiser and kinder than I from the
start. She probably won’t be, though. She’ll probably be just like me. She’ll
want to create her own weaving pattern, which might mean that she’ll need to
turn her back on mine for a while.
As a young mother and wife,
establishing a pattern that suited me was difficult. Learning to weave my own
tablecloth required all of my attention. I needed time and space to establish
my own rhythm and style, and perhaps my rejection of the old patterns was
necessary to the discovery of my own.
You know I’m not big on advice,
mainly because most days I learn what an idiot I was yesterday. This is
hopeful, because it means I’m generally moving in the right direction. But it
also makes it risky to put anything definitive in writing today. Even so, I
feel safe offering this.
Mothers-in-law, enjoy watching your daughter-in-law learn to
weave. When she makes a mistake, when she drops a stitch, allow her to notice
it on her own. Tell her often how beautiful her weaving is. Be kinder than
necessary. Bring her some tea. Be simple. Be sophisticated.
And daughters-in-law, notice the beauty of the rug that your
mother-in-law spent a lifetime weaving. Remember that mostly, her pattern is
firmly established, no need to suggest improvements. Be kinder than necessary,
being mindful that the piece of art it took her a lifetime to weave, her
masterpiece, she gave to you, to keep you warm at night. One day you’ll
give your masterpiece away, too. Be simple. Be sophisticated.” (a)
I think I’m being truly honest when
I say that I’m sure I drug my feet all over my mother-in-law’s tablecloth in my
early years as a wife & mother & for that I am truly sorry. Now as I
watch my own daughter-in-law weave the story of the family she is building with
my son, I am ever more aware not to offer unneeded advice but instead to listen
& pray & support & love. She is the most extraordinary person &
her weaving a thing of breathtaking beauty.
“In
an unfamiliar culture, it is wise to offer no innovations, no suggestions or
lessons.
The
epitome of sophistication is utter simplicity.”
-Maya
Angelou
(a)
Momastery.com
