Going Backwards

When one is 45, one should not go back and live with the parents. That is the simple rule. No matter how much you love your parents, you should not share living space with them once you have grown up.

In our case, we do love the mother-in-law/mother. She is cool beyond words, sharper than the average tack, and very accommodating. When our house burned down, she immediately offered us space in her home. Even as the fire raged, we knew we weren't really homeless because we could go out to the farm and be with her.

We had offers of a local hotel and offers of houses to stay in, but there was really never any question where we would stay. As we trudged back to the farm the night of the fire at 10 p.m., it felt like we were going home in a way -- albeit a temporary home, but a home none-the-less.

The only problem is that we were schlucking in donations every day, and her house was getting cluttered with our new stuff. She has been a widow for 10 years now, and she definitely had her home in order, just like she liked it. Plus, we are not poor, so I think she didn't really approve of all the donations of cash and clothing we were getting. These are not big deals, but they weighed on our minds heavily.

Couple that with the fact that my hubby is now 48, and being back home with his mother made him feel like an insecure teenager all over again. He tip-toes around his moods and hers, and he couldn't relax. We were upstairs, so we couldn't relax because we thought our footsteps might disturb her below. She couldn't watch her favorite TV shows undisturbed because we were there.

I don't think she minded us being there as much as we thought she minded us being there. We tried to get a rental home in our small town, but none were available. Then the angel from heaven came to save us.

Two weeks of going backwards was now to meet a glimpse into the future.