Beyond labels: A tribute to a remarkable woman

There lived a lady who was more than just a mother-in-law. I know it might sound strange to write an ode for her, especially considering our differences, but the truth is, she was a good lady—flawed, complex, yet undeniably elegant.

When I came to Chennai after my marriage, she was the only friend I had. My husband would drop me off at his parents’ place before heading off to work, so it was just her and me. In that time, I discovered a woman of great character. She was magnanimous ,a woman who ran a play school with warmth and dedication. Whenever she was free, she would fill my days with stories: tales of our family, her childhood adventures, accounts of relatives, dreams cherished, and failures endured. Despite my offers to help with her chores, she always insisted on doing things her own way.

Her sense of order was remarkable. She carried herself with simplicity and elegance, and even in her 60s, she rode her two-wheeler almost every day to visit us. What I admired most was how she never tried to mold me into her image. She allowed me to be myself, and that freedom is something I will always value.

Yet, like all of us, she had her downfalls. Her temper could be sharp and her stubbornness unwavering, but those traits were only a part of her multifaceted nature. I saw her kindness firsthand when she lent a helping hand to those in need, and her love for children shone through in everything she did.

Later, when Parkinson’s entered her life, we watched her slowly wither away. It began with the loss of control over her hands and feet, the instability that robbed her of walking with ease, and eventually, the silence that fell over her. We hired helpers to care for her, but she often resisted, complaining like a frightened child about her discomforts. It broke our hearts to see her in that state, a woman who had once carried herself with such dignity, now reduced to pain and isolation.

She used to smile a lot, yet I always sensed the loneliness behind that smile. Beneath the strong exterior lay a vulnerable soul, a child at heart, as revealed in the stories she told me about her own struggles. Even as she feared the simple act of walking, she found solace in her faith, recalling how she once heard God say, “I am holding you, don’t be afraid.” That deep love for God was as much a part of her as her indomitable spirit.

Today, the house she lived in seems empty without her. Her very presence once created a buzz that filled our home with life and laughter. We miss her deeply, each room echoes with memories of the sacrifices she made and the pain she endured to build the home we are now. Every small act of love and every moment of resilience is a reminder of the legacy she left behind.

I remember her not as a perfect person, but as a complex, beautiful soul, a woman who brought joy, order, and even a touch of chaos into my life. Despite the ups and downs, I admired her for her authenticity, her resilience, and her unwavering love for those around her. This tribute is my honest remembrance of a lady who was much more than just a mother-in-law, a lady who, in her own way, taught me about life, love, and the power of being true to oneself.

   

I wanna enlighten you my dear friends with the bitter truth that relationships aren’t about winning or proving a point they’re about patience, perspective, and a little bit of grace. "And trust me, I’m still exploring this myself, learning to choose patience over pride, perspective over impulse, and grace over grudges. It’s not easy, but maybe that’s what real connection is all about."

Sending you warmth and wisdom on this journey

Nancy Kavin.