I met my husband’s mother for the first time today (my mother-in-law, to be very specific). She seemed calm, very reserved, and hard to read. Before today, I only got to know her from stories. She loves to dance, I was told, especially with the two most important men in her life; her other half and her only son. The ground floor of their house was specifically designed to be spacious enough to do the swing or the tango. She loves to bake. My husband knows how complicated baking is because he would stand as her assistant everytime. She is afraid of the sun, or at least that’s how you can describe her when you see her sprinting from one shaded area to another as if playing hide & seek with her own shadow. She is beautiful inside-out. Her skin is as white as her sweet soul; her eyes… Her mysterious eyes makes you wonder, what could be on her mind? I can only guess, even now that i am right in front of her.

She remains calm, reserved, and hard to read even after it was time to leave. All I know about her is all that everyone can remember. She is here but she is not… And she is one part of me that I can only appreciate through her son’s eyes. She is the loveliest… I just hope I was able to meet her sooner than before she was laid to rest fourteen years ago.