My Mother Is in the Hospital

My ex-mother-in-law—mother of my first husband and paternal grandmother to my daughter, Becky—is in the hospital because of complications related to polycystic kidney disease and is not doing well. I'm so sad. I love her very much.

Becky just called me from her job to say that her dad had called her with the news. I know things aren't good because her dad isn't prone to exaggeration, and he told Becky that a couple of days ago, Kate, who is in her early seventies, was in a bad way physically and emotionally—enough to make him start thinking about her eulogy. Her mood is better today, but her body's still not cooperating. She's been on dialysis for years, and I have to wonder if her overloaded kidneys just have worn out.

She's the one who wrote me a hilarious e-mail back in November about her first great-grandchild-to-be, the baby that Becky is carrying and is due to give birth to on May 18. Becky's maternity leave starts tomorrow because her belly's huge enough to cause her leg pain (probably sciatica). Becky told me on the phone that she'd planned to head up to Upstate New York after the baby's birth to introduce Kate and Don (Becky's paternal grandfather) to the baby. Now she's worried that she'll be attending Kate's funeral instead.

When I married her son, Kate became the mother I'd always wanted. My biological mother was abusive and had some undiagnosed mental illness. Kate laughed with me and didn't hit me. She hugged me often. We talked about sex. She recommended a wine when I, forcibly raised as a Southern Baptist, wanted to try some for the first time. When her son and I divorced in the late '80s, she remained my friend. We've exchanged Christmas cards all these years. I married Ed in 1993, and when she later she met him, she hugged him and thanked him for loving Becky. Ed likes her too.

Kate, you're not allowed to die, you hear?


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