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Those Aren’t Tears, They’re Grapes
One Last Funny Memory As We Say Goodbye
My mother-in-law died last week.
I admit that’s not a particularly happy way to start a funny story, but it’s true. She survived World War II by hiding out in the swamps of Belarus, she went on to raise three girls and became known for teaching and helping preserve the Yiddish language in her own small way. And now she’s gone.
As I looked back on a week of sitting Shiva (a Jewish custom where mourners stay home, receive visitors who offer comfort and support and remember the dearly departed), I remembered one last story involving my mother-in-law that I haven’t told anyone in years, but had to share because it still makes me laugh. Even if the story really isn’t about her.
So, here goes.
Not too long ago, my mother-in-law came back from walking my children with an unexpected bulletin. It seems my daughter reported that my son had eaten a grape off the sidewalk while their grandmother wasn’t looking.
