Chop, chop, chop.  I heard the sound in the next room, a rhythmic reminder that I was not alone in the cabin.  It was quiet now, though, compared to the recent hustle and bustle of people bundling up and putting on their gear to head out into the frigid Michigan morning for some back-country snowmobiling.  I was in the bedroom, making use of the peaceful moments to spend time with God and let my heart and my brain recharge.  Vacations at our cabin in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula were wonderful and fun, but the family energy in such proximity could be over-stimulating.  Don’t get me wrong – I was incredibly thankful that we were there together – my mother-in-law and father-in-law; my sister-in-law, brother-in-law, niece and nephew; and my husband and 3 sons.  In fact, thankful was the appropriate attitude – we were preparing to celebrate Thanksgiving the very next day.

Chop, chop… the cutting slowed a bit, then stopped.  I hopped off my bed and went out toward the dining room/kitchen to see what was up.  My mother-in-law, Mary, sat at the long table that was made from a huge tree.  She had a cutting board in front of her and was dicing celery. 

Let me tell you about my mother-in-law.  Think of the kindest person you have ever known, then go a little kinder.  This lady had an amazing gift of encouraging others and letting them know that they mattered.  She had made “keep a positive attitude” her mantra for the last 5 years, as she battled first one cancer and then a second.  Mary loved holidays, and she loved cooking for her family, especially when using recipes that had been passed down from her mother or grandmother.  She was prepping the celery for one such dish, her classic stuffing, a standard at family feasts.  She had carefully planned the whole menu for this Thanksgiving dinner away from home, purchasing and packing the needed ingredients to make the dishes that defined the holiday for our family.  

As I started over to offer my assistance, she set her knife down, slowly stood up from the table and headed to her bedroom.   Looking at the stalks of celery yet to be diced and at the form lying in “grandma and grandpa’s bed,” grief washed over me.  Not fair!  All she wanted was to make the Thanksgiving meal like she had for so many years, and she didn’t even have the energy to cut the celery.  Should I go to her?  I didn’t want to intrude, but I followed my heart and entered her room, kneeling beside the bed where she lay. 

I put my hand on her shoulder, “Oh, Mary.” 

She smiled at me, and her eyes showed that she was thinking more about me than she was about herself.

“I can take care of the celery.  It’s no problem,” I said.  “Please, don’t worry about getting food ready – save your strength for spending time with the family.  Rest now and play euchre with your kids and grandkids tonight.”

I don’t even remember what she replied, but I know that I never sensed self-pity or anger.  I knew she was disappointed that her body couldn’t do the things she wanted it to do – the things she had always done.  But she rested.  I chopped the celery, and that evening she was up playing euchre, laughing with her family.

Thanksgiving was to be the last holiday we celebrated together.  She grew weaker, and her cancer started getting the upper hand.  Hearts breaking, we made her comfortable and took care of her.   On December 20, 2016, she breathed her last breath on this earth.  As our family spent time together that first Christmas without her, we remembered with gratitude the moments and the memories we had shared at Thanksgiving, less than a month earlier. 

More Thanksgivings have come and gone, more celery has been diced and more stuffing made.  Mary left us good recipes to follow.  As I remember and reflect, I realize she also left life lessons to follow.

Let people help you.  Yes, Mary let me help with the celery and the Thanksgiving preparations, and she had been letting me help since the first time I visited her home.  At other places when I was a guest, my offers to assist with clearing the table and cleaning the dishes had been dismissed.  “Go sit down!  It will just take me a minute.”  Not Mary.  She allowed me to work beside her, which made me feel useful, more like a family member than a guest.  Those times together in the kitchen gave us moments to deepen our connection.  I am prone to wanting to handle things myself, but I am learning.  Admitting I need help and letting others lend a hand, although humbling, lets them know they are needed, while also allowing me to accomplish more than I could on my own.  Working together builds relationships.

Euchre trumps celery.  When you must choose between having things just the way you want them (or the way they have always been) and connecting with your family, choose family every time.  Every one of us has limited capacity.  We need to be willing to surrender our desires for perfection, be flexible, and prioritize relationships.  As my pastor says, “people before projects.” 

Keep a positive attitude.  At times life is painful and difficult and seemingly unfair.  Focus on what is good.  Say it out loud to remind yourself if need be – I would guess I heard Mary say, “Keep a positive attitude,” hundreds of times.  There are always reasons for gratitude and things you can celebrate, but sometimes you must dig to find them.  It is worth the effort.  Remember, people are watching, and you are leaving a legacy. 

There are many more lessons my mother-in-law lived, but if I can learn these three, I will count that as success.  And I will remember Mary every time I chop celery. 

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

-Leah