The turning point

Like the writer, this is a sensitive and gentle re-telling of one of those relationships which can be very difficult — that of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. Beautifully written, as always, Julia takes us on a personal journey of discovery with her own mother-in-law and is a masterclass in where a writing prompt can take us and our writing. Julia’s answer then to writing prompt No. 34, ‘The Turning Point.’ Ed

At the age of 84, my mother-in-law underwent her second heart valve transplant. By that time, she had been my mother-in-law for 20 years and we didn’t get on.

When she came round from the operation, her doctors arranged for her to recuperate in our local village hospital. It was ‘our ’ local hospital because on becoming a widow, my mother-in-law moved from Devon to live as near as possible to her youngest son (aka my husband), slashing the precious 200 miles which used to separate our houses to a terrifying 400 yards.

I look at her cottage today and remember how much I dreaded her move into our village and how guilty I used to feel that I was unable to share my husband’s enthusiasm for her arrival. I recall the lengths to which I went to ensure that certain areas of my life within the village would remain private from her and how I dreaded her tapping on my kitchen window when she passed it every day on her dog walk.

I remember too the incredulity I felt on discovering my 3 sisters-in-law were also dealing with ‘mother-in-law’ issues and the relief of realising the cause of our relationship problems couldn’t therefore be my personal failings as a wife and mother, but rather that I had unwittingly thrown down a gauntlet when I married her son.

Twenty years is almost long enough for a generation of grandchildren to grow up. By the time my sons were in their teens, I had long given up on the idea of developing any real relationship with their grandmother. I aimed simply to endure the times we shared as best as I knew how to and was happy to leave it at that.

And yet… after that operation for her heart valve transplant, our relationship changed completely and grew into something I cherished deeply. When my mother-in-law died five years later, I wept for the loss of someone I’d grown not only to respect and value but also whom I truly loved.

The turning point for this metamorphosis was the week of my mother-in-law’s recuperation in the local hospital. During this period, I sat beside her as she lay helpless, vulnerable and frightened in bed and came to know the real woman who hid behind the autocratic façade.

I was astonished to find how much I liked her. For the first time in twenty years, we invested long hours in real conversations, talking and really listening to each other. As we talked, I grew to appreciate my mother-in-law had so many qualities which I’d never noticed before. She was funny and loyal, intelligent and gutsy. I saw how stoically she endured pain and how bravely she tried to hide her fear of dying. We left our differences behind us by that hospital bed and became friends.

Upon her eventual recovery, my mother-in-law moved back into her home. Outwardly life was back to normal but in reality, our relationship had changed forever.

A few months later, she gave me a puppy. It was more than just a present — the little dog was a symbol. He was her way of telling me that we were now truly a mother and daughter — in spirit as well as in law.

Julia | The Awesome Hen