Paying tribute to a truly remarkable mother-in-law

Wednesday, June 18, 2008 9:50 AM CDT

My mother-in-law passed away last week. She watched the 10 o’clock news, the Tonight Show, then brushed her teeth, put on her pajamas, read her Bible and slept her way to heaven. She was 94 years old.

You wouldn’t have known she was 94 years old if she hadn’t kept reminding you. You definitely would never have known it by her appearance. I asked her many times why, after having had six children and feeding hired hands on the farm, she didn’t have any wrinkles. She would simply say, “But I have a wrinkle.” Then she would invite me closer to see it. It was more like a shadow from her eyelashes.

Ninety-four years old. She stayed young at heart and mind by reading, putting together puzzles, and by comparing her age with some of her neighbors in the apartment building. Often she would inform me of the mistakes those who were older than her made. “Mrs. Dawson down the hall forgot to shut the stove off yesterday. The fire department was here again. They are such nice young men. I don’t know why that Mrs. Dawson can’t remember to shut off her stove.” Then she would pause and continue with a conspiratorial tone, “Well, you know, she is 96.”

My mother-in-law never stopped taking care with her appearance. One time while visiting her in her 92nd year, I found her in an agitated state. That mood was so foreign to her that I asked her what was wrong. “I went to the dentist today,” she fumed.

“Are you in pain?” I asked, prodding her to tell me what was wrong.

“He wouldn’t whiten my teeth!” She said with a “what audacity!” kind of tone to her voice.

“What?” I asked, fascinated with the idea that my mother-in-law, at the age of 92, had even thought of whitening her teeth.

“He said he wouldn’t whiten them because I have a couple of crowns and whitening would not work on the crowns; that my natural teeth would be white but the crowns wouldn’t be as white. He said I would be unhappy with the results. Can you believe that? I think that might be age discrimination.”

Coming from a family where teeth began disappearing as we neared the age of 30, I was trying to comprehend a 92-year-old who still had her own teeth. Because of my amazement at her having all her own teeth, I didn’t spend much time analyzing the possibility of age discrimination.

There was only one concession Avis made to aging - she said goodbye to much of her fine, blonde hair. A wisp disappeared in her 70s; another wisp in her 80s. As she neared her 90s, she added wearing a wig to her daily routine.

She had two wigs: one for everyday use, the other she called her Sunday wig. She conceded to wear her Sunday wig on non-Sunday occasions such as weddings or dinner out. Unlike many elderly people with wigs, hers stayed where it was supposed to - never so far forward it touched her pearl-pink lipstick and never so far back that she looked like she had fought a strong wind. It was just right and made her look like a young woman again.

Besides keeping up appearances, my mother-in-law kept up an undying love for her six children. They were perfect in her eyes. They were handsome and pretty, ambitious and smart, no matter what kinds of corrections to those thoughts their spouses might contribute. There were only a few others she loved as much as her children and those were her grandchildren. The perfection in her own children bypassed the possibility of tainting by the in-laws and by some mysterious divine act, produced grandchildren of perfection, too. It was a miracle she reveled in and they, in turn, loved her unequivocally back.

Perhaps the saying is true that we die the way we live. My Mother-in-Law was a lady to the end of her days; soft-spoken, genteel, happy in the company of her family, grateful for a visit and help, giver of kind words and support, and never wanting to be a burden to anyone, not even in her dying.

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