The Debster

(Halloween 2008)

 I first met Debbie (my mother-in-law) at a Women's Conference in Blanding in 2008.  I was talked into joining the choir last minute and only went to the day-of rehersal. I sat by Debbie. We chatted a little--she's on the school board and knew who I was, I knew Merry Shumway, also on the school board.  Mostly I remember being grateful she had a strong alto voice that I could follow right along with since I didn't know the music well.

Who knew a few months later I would be sitting in her basement holding hands with her son when we met again. I was super nervous to meet Debbie the second time. Jeremy and I had just started dating and he invited me over to his house.  Part of the purpose was to meet his parents. I only vaguely remembered his mom from the Women's Conference. Jeremy had only been off his mission a few months. I was an "older" girl dating their son. What would they think of me?

I needn't have worried. Debbie came down the stairs with her usual boundless energy and made me feel right at home. Both she and Mark were warm and welcoming.  Like or not, I soon became a fixture at their house. Debbie always invited me to stay for dinner or to have some of her fantastic key lime pie. Goodness, if I learned anything during our Blanding courtship and engagement time, it was that Debbie can cook.

I remember the day of San Juan graduation, I headed over to Jeremy's after the ceremony. Debbie, who had also been at graduation representing the school board, stuck her head down the basement stairs and asked if we were hungry. We were. "Ok, I'll just whip up some spaghetti" she said.

Forty five minutes later, I was wondering if she'd gotten a little sidetracked or something. You see, at my house a "quick spaghetti dinner" usually meant heating up a jar of sauce, cooking some noodles, and, maybe, toasting some garlic bread. Fifteen minutes tops. When she finally called us up, I was greeted with some out-of-this-world spaghetti. Homemade sauce with fresh mushrooms and home-canned tomatoes. A pan of cheesy flat bread. A salad. Seriously? Let's just say in my book, Debbie is a chef.

Her skills in the kitchen don't stop with spaghetti, though. She decorates cakes, bakes pies, hello: bread pudding I love you, and she makes a pretty fantastic Thanksgiving dinner. The woman works food wonders. But that's just the beginning.The kitchen, it just so happens, is also her craft station. Out of it's depths have come countless pieced quilts, princess costumes, and who knows how many more creations. Debbie is a woman of many talents.

It was in that same kitchen (already working on the quilt that reigns upon our bed) that she greeted us right after getting engaged. I was a bit sheepish, but stuck out my hand to indicate the deed was done. With sheer delight Debbie let out a shout, did a few jumps up and down, and ran to give me a hug. She was so excited! And the truth is, she's excited about most things. She gave the same shout for joy when we called to tell her we were having a baby. She gets giddy thinking about what she'll be for Halloween each year, she always goes the extra mile when planning a party or project. Her enthusiasm for life is infectious.

Not only is Debbie happy, but she's always happy to help. Three weeks before my due date Jeremy had to spend a week in Baltimore for a conference. Debbie graciously came to stay with me while he was away. Despite the fact that we had moved just two days before. Our new apartment was one big pile of boxes and I was balloon bellied and trying to stay far away from preterm labor (at least until Jeremy was back in the state). Debbie was the perfect balance of willing to help and not-stepping-on-your-toes helpful. She would do anything I asked or needed, but didn't insist on unpacking my kitchen. Let's just say, Raymond's room is still set up in the layout she put it in.

Goodness, I feel l like I could go on for pages about how blessed I have been to have such a wonderful mother-in-law. I really haven't even scratched the surface here (hello, writes plays, performs in plays, is a fount of knowledge (how many times have I heard Jeremy say, "I'll call the Debster" when we need to know something?) is incredibly musical, is thoughtful and generous, kind and wise, loving and sincere...) but this will have to suffice for now. Mostly I just want to say...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

You are loved.

(Debbie driving the beloved boat. Summer 2008)