I never thought I’d find myself longing for my ex-mother-in-law, but here we are—strange, I know. Yet, I think about her daily, especially around Thanksgiving.
For much of my adult life, I celebrated this holiday with my ex-husband Mark’s family. We started dating back in college, and since my family lived far away, our first Thanksgiving together was at Mark’s childhood home.
I vividly remember that first Thanksgiving with the Johnsons, even after all these years. The gathering was massive, with nearly thirty people converging on their home long before dinner was served. Food covered every available surface—turkey, ham, a cornucopia of pies, and an assortment of snacks. There were multiple football games blaring from different televisions, while children sprawled on the floor, completely immersed in the excitement. Everyone brought their dogs, creating a warm, bustling atmosphere filled with incredible aromas. I arrived feeling lonely and somewhat out of place, but I was quickly enveloped in the loving ambiance crafted by my future mother-in-law, Linda.
The celebration stretched throughout the day, with friends, relatives, and neighbors joining the fun. The following day was equally indulgent, featuring leftover pie for breakfast and elaborate turkey sandwiches for lunch. There were no real-life responsibilities pulling us away; it was all about togetherness.
My own family’s Thanksgiving traditions were quite different—simple gatherings focused primarily on dinner and quickly returning to daily routines. It wasn’t until I experienced those Johnson family Thanksgivings that I realized I had been missing out on something special. Linda adored Thanksgiving and worked tirelessly to instill that love in everyone around her. Her warmth and generosity shone brightly, and she welcomed me with open arms because I loved her son. A remarkable cook, she transformed food into heartfelt memories, preparing everyone’s favorites.
Linda was not just a mother-in-law; she became like a second mom to me. I sought her advice on everything from parenting to career choices, and she was always there to offer support. We spent countless weeks together, traveling and making memories.
However, when Mark and I separated in the fall, I sent our children to him for Thanksgiving that year. It was what they were familiar with, and I didn’t want them to miss out. I, on the other hand, felt lost without them, and the absence of Linda made it even harder. I sent her a heartfelt message expressing my gratitude for all she had done and my love for her. To my surprise, she called me back, sharing her appreciation for having me in her life.
Sadly, that was our last genuine conversation.
In the years that followed, I continued to reach out to Linda. I kept her updated on the kids, shared photos, and even sought her guidance when traveling. I sent her birthday cards and Mother’s Day flowers, along with the occasional request for recipes. I cherish her for the loving grandmother she is to my children and for the incredible mother she was to me.
But with divorce, the dynamics shifted. Each family member navigates the changes in their own way, and while Mark and I have found common ground, my relationship with Linda has evolved separately. She exists in my memory as a mother figure.
As Thanksgiving approaches, I often feel a sense of sadness. For nearly two decades, I spent this holiday with the Johnsons. I miss that lively, dog-friendly home, the food, and most importantly, I miss Linda.
However, part of her legacy lives on in me. I now host my own Thanksgiving gatherings, filled with laughter, children, and comfort. I use Linda’s cherished recipes, filling my counters with delicious dishes. My eldest helps prepare the famous Johnson green bean casserole and the beloved chocolate pecan pie. We borrow ovens from neighbors and, true to tradition, everyone brings their furry friends. While some things have changed (no football here), the love and memories remain intact.
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In summary, while I miss my ex-mother-in-law deeply, I carry her spirit into my own Thanksgiving celebrations. Her warmth and love continue to shape my family traditions, reminding me of the bonds that endure.
Keyphrase: missing my ex-mother-in-law
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