To My Son-In-Grace

Dear Tim,

I've been thinking about the term "son-in-law" this week. What does it really mean?

I suppose the answer depends on who is asking the question, just as the "real meaning" of an apple will depend on whether you ask an orchard owner, a nutritionist, or a theologian. Likewise, if your daughter's man-picker is defective and you end up with less than optimum specimen living in your basement suite for four years while he "explores his options," then the term "son-in-law" is going to have a specific and very real meaning for you.

But the more I thought about you and the wonderful gift you have been not only to Pookie1 but to our entire family, the less appropriate the term became. "Son?" Absolutely, although I'm sure from your end there have been many times when you've watched our family together and wondered if it was really such a good idea to risk wading into this particular end of the gene pool. But from our end, it feels like you have brought in a piece that had been missing all along and we just hadn't known it until you showed up. As a clan, we are just better--happier, more optimistic, calmer, and most miraculously, more gracious with one another--with you here.

And that's where I stumbled this week on the "in law" part. Maybe that part was true for the moment you were signing the register in the Chapel in The Woods three years ago. But you are now our son-in-grace, by Grace, and we thank Him for you with great gratitude.

Love, The Mother-In-Law

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