During a Thanksgiving FaceTime call with my mom, she referenced a blog post I wrote a few months back. In that post, I shared a conversation we had where she questioned whether it bothered me that Sara doesn’t maintain a spotless home. I responded, “I didn’t marry Sara for a tidy house; I chose her because I could envision a life with her.”
Her reaction was silence, followed by, “I suppose that’s more significant than a clean house.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “It absolutely is.”
The essay gained traction, and while my mom isn’t an avid Facebook user, it eventually showed up on her feed. As we discussed it, she expressed pride in my writing, but not without a hint of discomfort about how I portray things. “I didn’t mean to offend,” she said.
I agreed, understanding that her reaction stemmed from curiosity and her own upbringing. Despite the distance between Oregon and Utah, with the sounds of Thanksgiving celebrations around us, it felt like we were the only two people in the room.
“I want you to know that I truly appreciate Sara,” she stated. “I love her and admire how she interacts with the children.”
Though I appreciated her words, they felt a bit awkward. It seemed more appropriate for her to convey this directly to Sara. We both fell silent for a moment.
“Thanks,” I replied. “Would you like to talk to the kids?”
“I’d like to speak with Sara first,” she responded.
I hesitated, uncertain of what would unfold. I called Sara, letting her know my mom wanted to chat. As she gathered our children, I stopped her. “She just wants to talk to you,” I said.
Sara looked concerned and whispered, “What does she want to talk about?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t recall a similar situation occurring before. I sensed Sara was bracing herself for something, which is typical when it comes to one-on-one interactions with in-laws.
Sara walked cautiously down the hall, settled on the sofa, and picked up the iPad. I remained in the kitchen, trying to eavesdrop while still providing support. I heard my mother saying words like “appreciate,” “love,” and “I’m sorry.” Sara smiled and replied with “thank you” and “don’t worry about it.”
Their conversation lasted only a few moments, but it was significant. I wondered if it should have taken my writing about our conversation for my mom to apologize to Sara. Did she owe her an apology? Perhaps yes, perhaps no. But the crux of the matter was that her words were genuine.
Having known my mother my entire life, I could sense her sincerity. She had many options for how to respond—she could have taken offense to my post or even attempted to create a rift between us. However, she chose to reflect on my writing and take steps to foster unity in our family. It was a mature decision, and maturity isn’t always synonymous with age.
I joined Sara on the sofa, and soon they were laughing together. Our three kids came down the hall, curious about the commotion, and my mother greeted them with a cheerful “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Once that moment passed and the family interaction concluded, it was just my mom and me again.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “You didn’t need to do that, but it was kind of you. I appreciated it.”
She smiled genuinely, and after saying our goodbyes, we both understood we had a lot to be thankful for that day.
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In summary, my mother’s sincere apology to my wife was a meaningful moment that underscored the importance of communication and understanding within family dynamics.