Another Sweet Chapter of Life

I was twenty-four when we met. 

I had traveled from Cairo, Egypt, with a brief stop in Oklahoma to catch my breath, and then on west, to Los Angeles, Honolulu, New Zealand, and finally: Australia.

I was a newlywed of six months when we met.

I was nervous, absolutely exhausted, possessing a vanity only a 24-year old would possess, that I should be perfectly dressed in fresh clothes, make-up on, hair perfect.  Lipstick, makeup, smile on my face, song in my heart.

In reality, I had been up and traveling way too many hours and days, (the last leg, 36 hours),  was scared and I sure didn't look as nice as I had hoped.  I might have even smelled a little ripe after all that travel.

We were collected from the airport in the dark, and driven another two hours inland from Brisbane.  We ended up at a darker-than-dark farm in Queensland, Australia, where the stars shone brighter than any I have ever seen.  They must have been mere miles from earth.

My newlywed, that Spouse o' Mine, took me in through the front door of this farmhouse, and that's where I met her: my mother-in-law.  She was beautiful, with her silver - not grey, but silver-white hair, and a welcoming, yet somewhat tentative smile.  No doubt she was sizing up the person who had convinced her son to stay in the States after his stint in college, rather than to return home to kith and kin of Australia.

I could smell beautiful food wafting from the kitchen, and we immediately were ushered in to a large family dinner - brothers, inlaws, grandkids.  (33 years later, and I still remember the roast beef dinner she served.)  I was absolutely numb.  Numb from nerves.  Numb from jetlag.  Numb from just being twenty-four and so out of my element I could not see straight.

Immediately after dessert I excused myself to go to bed.  And I slept for many, many hours.  When I awakened, I could hear all sorts of birds outside, like jungle birds.  I could hear such happy voices downstairs in the kitchen.  I smelled wonderful things from the kitchen...

I headed downstairs, and joined the throng of conversation which always moved from meal-to-meal, tea time-to-tea time, out into the fields of cotton, over to the orange trees, and then the almond trees, checking the chooks (chickens), and just enjoying each other.

From that morning on, I built a relationship with Louise, my mother-in-law. 

She grew up poor in the Depression in South Dakota.  She knew things, she learned things, and she was savvy.  When she and my father-in-law emigrated to Australia, she surely utilized all her skills and common sense, because their move from Point A to Point B was a brilliant success.

Being, as I laughingly call them, "dark Lutherans", one would never know by talking to them, what a terrific life change this move had been for them.  I did not know them in their South Dakota years, but their farm years at Brookvale were, according to them, immeasurably better.  Still, they had the good and bad years that track every farmer anywhere in this world.  But to go out, and pick an orange for breakfast?  And that Spouse o' Mine points out, "not having to break ice in -25º weather" was certainly a perk.

Louise was an avid golfer.  I think this allowed her a social vent away from the farm.  Louise took me out golfing (the first day I was coherent after jet lag).  I was not so much into the game.  Looking back, I am sorry to say that I was probably downright boring and Louise must have been second-guessing her son's choice in life partners.  But, you know what?  She and I shared a love of cooking, and I pored over her cookbooks and index card recipes.  We had a good time over that.

A year later saw my being hired by TWA, as a flight attendant.  Many, many facets went into this new job (a weekly commute from Detroit to JFK was one), but an awesome perk was the travel afforded to both me, and that Spouse o' Mine.  We could fly to Australia: me, for free, and he, for for ~ $25.00!!!  Remember: this was when trips to Australia were a once-a decade, or so, thing.

The next trip we took to visit my inlaws, we had two very young daughters in tow, and I was on maternity leave from TWA with our third pregnancy.  Still at the farm, our daughters met their grandparents and experienced oranges on the trees, kangaroos in the yard, a mouse plague, and much more.  This trip was enriching to me.  Louise shared so much maternal and pregnancy wisdom and experience with me.  Plus, I had never experienced a kid puking before, but there went daughter Claire, two years old, spewing all over the place, and Gma Louise, calmly getting a bucket and mop.  And I was stage left, gagging with morning sickness, which, "down under" happened to be evening sickness".  Lovely.

So, let me fast-forward.  Three decades.  Yes.  It seems unimaginable, but yes, three decades have swept through my life with dear Louise.  We wrote letters to each other before email.  We called each other, too.  I quit TWA to become a stay-at-home Mom about the same time my inlaws retired from the farm.  They began visiting us in the States, rather than us heading down there.  They had time and money, we had no time and little money.  Win-win.

Louise and I shared a love of cooking, as I mentioned.  We also had a love of quilting and other handiworks.  After our initial golf game, which was kind of a bust, we never had a dull moment together.  Conversation with Louise was always bright, often funny, but also often political or religious.  She was on the top of her game in all things newsworthy.

This snippet of my life with my mother-in-law is a mere facet of her life.  She shared her life with two other daughters-in-law in Australia, and no doubt their relationships and experiences with Louise are different, and closer.  I love and embrace the mother-in-law I was given.  She was always encouraging, never judging, and - you know the best? 

I will always hear her little laugh.  A little laugh which will be the lace coaster to our tea time conversations.

Thank you, Louise.

Louise Eleanore Olson Armstrong.
April 15, 1930-June 25, 2017
Highfields, Queensland, Australia.

1 Corinthians, 13:4-7
Love is patient. love is kind.  Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.  It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.  It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.