My mother-in-law’s story

We got a call from the East Coast tonight. My mother-in-law is in the hospital. Something is amok with her legs. We’re on stand by.

When she was a little girl starting elementary school, her father was captured as a prisoner of World War II by the Germans. A few years ago she gave us a tour of the small Massachusettes town she and her sister stayed in during that frightening time.

She started with the house — her aunt’s — and told us about her cousins, who were teen-agers and wore make up and heels. As she drove through the town, she showed us the path she and her sister took walking to school.

“This is where I hid my shoes,” she pointed.

Somehow she had acquired a pair of heels. Cluck-clucks, she called them. She wasn’t allowed to wear them to school, but she did anyway. She hid them by the side of the road and changed en route. If I remember correctly, the cluck-clucks were much too big.

Even as I sit here, a responsible adult with a history of mischief, I am stunned by elders who admit they were once naughty.

My favorite part of this story was seeing her face as she told it. She was 7 again, excited about forbidden shoes.

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2 Responses to “My mother-in-law’s story”

  1. roberto Says:

    I am 60 years old and I still get excited about forbidden shoes. In fact, that’s about all I get excited about anymore.

  2. Stats « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] of my stories have high points because of hot words. For instance, My Mother-in-Law’s Story gets hit constantly. There has not been a day since I posted it that someone hasn’t Googled […]

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