Yesterday, Ben’s mom passed away. She had spent a week at Mass General after suffering a heart attack last Monday. Once the family had gathered to say their goodbyes, some coming all the way from Morocco, it was time to let her go. Her passing is a blessing in many ways, but it doesn’t make it any easier for the family.
I spent a few hours alone with her on Sunday morning. It was quiet, except for the machines that were helping her breathe, monitoring her, and providing medicines, and I had a lot of time to think. Sitting there, I realized that although my mother-in-law didn’t speak English, and my Arabic is pretty bad, she gave me a very valuable gift – acceptance.
I’m sure when Ben was growing up, his parents expected him to marry a nice Muslim girl. Yet they accepted me with open arms, and I never felt like they wished otherwise. I don’t live by their rules, but I never felt any sense of disapproval…not because I work instead of staying at home with the kids, or because my house is usually a wreck, or I wear shorts, have wine in my cabinet, or have a dog (most Muslims do not believe in having dogs in the house). I can honestly say that I always felt accepted into their family, and Hanna and Ba always greeted me with big smiles and enthusiastic cheek-kisses.
When I left Hanna for the last time, I kissed her forehead and turned to leave her room. A friend of the family’s who I had met for the first time that day said, “Oh – one more thing…” I turned back and she said, “She always said nice things about you.”
This is my favorite photo of Ben’s mom, taken on our boat in August of 2003. I didn’t have much experience driving a boat, and I never would have expected her to agree to going for a ride, but she said something about only having one life and putting it in my hands without concern, and off we went.
Acceptance. A gift I will always cherish.
