Here Goes....

Life with a 98 year old mother-in-law....Here is the story: there is a cat, 3 kids, 1 husband and the matriarch of the family living in one house.  I live here, too, but I can't decide quite what my role is--slave sounds so much more cynical than I feel but the word is apt.  More details: my mother-in-law had a menopause baby who grew up and fell in love with a woman 18 years his junior--that's me.  Family history (of which I am extremely proud): my mother-in-law is the youngest of 14 and there were 22 years between her and her oldest sister and 25 years between her and her oldest brother; this means my husband's Uncle, his direct blood-line Uncle, was born in 1888.  Think about it.  My husband's Grandfather, immigrant from Cornwall, came overseas in a ship that pre-dated the Titanic.  He was probably born around 1867, if not earlier.  My mother-in-law had brothers who fought in the Great War and were adults.  She also remembers the Depression like it was yesterday and the Electric Car the first time around.  This is a blog about living with someone who is old, not senile, not demented, not in poor health, just old.  And, this is a blog about living with an old person rather than warehousing them in an institution or a hospice or any other euphemistically named place to wait to die. At 98, my mother-in-law went to a spa for the first time; our family's philosophy is one is never too old to try something new...