Life With My In-Laws

Last night, I spent most of the evening with my wife's parents. It was nothing really out of the ordinary....yarn talk...dinner...some Wii bowling. And I started thinking about my mother and father in law.

There is such a stereotype in the world when it comes to how your relationship is supposed to be with your in laws. It's the backbone of nightmares, sitcoms, and countless stand up comedy routines. By the time you say "I do", you're already wincing at the thought of having to deal with them face to face.

To say that I was nervous when I first met Joe and Karen, would be an understatement. I was nervous for probably the first two years of my relationship with my wife. I don't know how many times I asked my wife, "Do your parents like me? Do you think they think you could've done better?"

In October of last year, they moved to Arizona and we all decided to share a house temporarily while they looked for jobs in the state. We all lived together for 9 months, until May of this year. Times got tough from time to time. Four adults and an infant in a three bedroom house can get a little dicey, whether you're related to them or not. The last three months we were there, both of my in laws were out of work, and I was on disability. Needless to say, we got to know each other pretty well.

I come from a very affectionate family. We would all hug each other and tell each other "I love you." multiple times a day. My wife's family isn't like that. I guess we're all brought up differently. Doesn't mean they love each other any less. Let me explain.

My dad told me he loved me every day. He was also virtually absent in my life. He lived in the same house as I did, but the only time he ever communicated with me was to punish me (whip me with a belt). We never played outside. We never played catch. He never showed me how to shave or set the expectations of being a man. It was like growing up in a single parent home.

In my adult life, my relationship with my parents was rocky at best. In more recent times, my relationship with my parents is non-existent. We haven't talked in months, and it looks as if there will never be a repair of the damage that has been been done.

My mother and father in law LOVE me. They treat me like their son, and not just the guy that married their daughter. That means more to me than any words that can be written in a thank you card or on an online blog. They love my daughter, and my daughter loves them....sometimes more than she loves my wife and I. Going to "Nana and Buppa's" house is like Disneyland for her.

My wife and I have talked off and on over the last couple of months about moving away from Arizona. Going somewhere cooler, somewhere less Republican. I realized a couple of weeks ago that we can't leave our parents. We have a support system here. It may be two people, but they're two very important people. I've spent more quality time with my father in law in the last year than what I have spent with my birth father my entire life. My daughter will never know her grandparents on my side of the family, her daddy's mommy and daddy. She'll never get to see her cousins, or her aunt or her uncle. I will not deprive her of the opportunity to know the one set of grandparents she has left. She treasures them. Likewise, I would never take her away from her Nana and Buppa. She means the world to them. And if it means putting up with 120 degree days for three months a year.....we'll always be within a 20 minute drive.

There's a line from a Disney movie called 'Lilo and Stitch' that says, "Ohana (Hawaiian word) means family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten". Joe....Karen....you're Ohana. Blood or not, you're family. Thank you for everything you have done, whether you have realized it or not. It hasn't gone unnoticed. I love you Joe and Karen Mom and Dad.

Your Son,

Adam