I met my mother in law in December 2007.

I had flown up to Kentucky to be with my soon to be husband’s family for the Christmas holiday.

My first impressions were of welcome, and of love. She took me right into her arms, right from the start. She knew I loved her son, and over the years she thanked me over and over for taking care of him. Her heart bore the deep wounds inflicted by the betrayal her son had suffered, and she commiserated with me often, knowing I would not bring him the same suffering.

She was a farm born Kentucky girl, and wow she could cook! Like many Southern cooks, she loved to read Southern Loving and cookbooks, but cooked from recipes handed down to her. On the rare times she checked a recipe, it was just to confirm what she already knew.

She loved taking care off others – she was a great mom and wife. She made sure everyone had what they needed. As a career, she was a nurse, and she had the no-nonsense, clear eyed way of seeing things the way they were. She was honest, funny, and sassy.

She loved dogs – she rescued and raised many dogs that may have had a short and tortured life. She usually had a dog by her side – most of my memories have her in her chair, dogs around her in adoration.

The early years, we went home to the farm in Kentucky biannually. Every 4th of July and Christmas we would spend a week at home. It quickly became our favorite place to go. Summers were fireflies and riding three wheelers through the fields, fireworks along the bank of the Ohio river, homemade peach cobbler with ice cream, and walks through downtown on gallery nights. Winters were cold, clear, starry nights, card games around the kitchen table, great home cooking around the clock, and watching “The Sound of Music” on TV.

Her house reflected her loves – photos of her family covered every room. Christmas trees twinkled during the holiday, and there was at least one tree up and decorated year round.

She loved sitting on the glassed-in porch in the morning, rocking in her rocking chair, watching the birds in the backyard. Her favorite were the cardinals that flourished on the farm.

We found out Wednesday that her health was quickly failing. She had been overwhelmed steadily by the pervasive curse of dementia, and last April she became confined to a bed after a fall.

We’ve been waiting ever since.

Waiting for her to escape her failing mind and find her home in heaven, to be with the Lord she so loved and faithfully served.

Last night, the wait was over. When the daughter who had been standing vigil stepped away for a moment, and as we approached from the south after 11 hours of driving, she slipped out of her body, and into God’s arms.

The waiting is over for her. I’m grateful for this wonderful woman of God and all the love she has given me over the years.

Mom, thank you for being a great mother to my wonderful husband. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving him, just as I promised.