This coming Labor Day, Andy and I will be doing one of those first-time-ever things: we will be meeting our future son-in-law’s parents. We like The Boy a whole lot. Given our firm belief that no one will ever be good enough for our children, he comes awfully close. Best of all (as observed by one of our children) isn’t just how he is when he is around us, but how our daughter is when she is around him. She is herself, but more so, in kind of a glow-y happy way. We are thrilled that he is with our daughter, and I am practicing already being the type of mother-in-law that I want to be.
I am just now coming to understand, though, that he does not come to us in isolation. He brings a family of his own, and we will be meeting them in a few days. In my church, I have one of these extended families. The now-married children met in our church as youth, and both sets of parents are part of this congregation. There are now young grandchildren in the mix, and it’s always fun to watch the grandparent/grandchildren reunions that occur weekly in the sanctuary. The grandparents laughingly refer to their relationship to each other, not as in-laws, but as outlaws.
I am getting a little nervous about our pending meeting, to my surprise. This new relationship will be important, and I wonder what it will be like. I know some things about them already. I know their professions and some of their interests. They live in a town about 5 hours away. I know some other, more important things about them. They are kind to my daughter and have welcomed her into their home. They raised a son who graduated college with honors, and who cares about those who are less fortunate than himself. And he loves my daughter, treats her well, and brings out the best in her.
Inlaws or outlaws, it doesn’t really matter to me. I know what to call them already: “family.”
