Letter to My Mother-in-Law: A Family Reunion in Banff

Life is short. That simple truth has been on my mind more than usual lately. As I get older, the idea of time slipping away feels more real, and the small, urgent choices about how we spend our days matter more than ever.

When I lost my dad many years ago, one of my deepest regrets was not having the chance to tell him “I love you” one last time. No amount of replaying the hours before he passed changes that. I’ve had to accept that some moments can’t be rewound, and there are no do-overs for certain good-byes.

But that acceptance has also taught me something valuable: I want to live so that my farewells—whenever they come—are full of love and without lingering regrets. None of us know when the last opportunity to say those things will come, and busy routines can make it easy to put those conversations off.

So in the middle of the everyday noise, I try to pause and remember the people God has placed in my life, making an effort to tell them how much they mean to me while I still can. I don’t want to one day look back and say, “I wish I would have said…”

That brings me to a few days ago. As families grow, it becomes harder and harder to gather everyone in one place at the same time. Schedules, distances and obligations all conspire against it. But somehow, through adjusted work calendars, flights for the grandkids, long drives and careful planning, it happened: for a few precious hours every single member of my husband’s family was together in one place—Banff, Alberta.

There was laughter and conversation, organizing and eating, walking and relaxing in a truly beautiful setting. And this gathering had a special reason behind it: it was for her.

This lady.

My mother-in-law wanted the family together more than anything. She asked for it, and each of us moved heaven and earth to make it happen because we love her.

As I rode home that evening, I thought about her. She reads my blog when she can, though lately she’s spent most of her time researching cancer treatments—because cancer is the battle she’s facing right now. The way she approaches this fight is consistent with how she has always approached life: with spunk, determination, and a refusal to give up.

None of us can predict the days or months ahead. For now she walks with a spring in her step, determined to live each day fully. She has plans—a dream trip with her husband and one of her sons is on the horizon—and she intends to enjoy it.

I met her children and many of their spouses back when I was in college, never imagining that I would one day be welcomed into their family. We share years of memories and stories, and I feel incredibly blessed to be part of this family.

We may still have many years ahead together, but I decided there was no better time than the present to put my feelings into words. So I wrote her a letter—something simple, sincere, and full of gratitude. Here it is:

Dear Mom,

Thank you.

Thank you for passing the salad until it was gone, and for mastering the quick art of speed jello. Thank you for the countless times you lovingly prepared my boys’ favorite meal—Grandma’s perogies with farmer’s sausage, strawberry sauce, and cream gravy. Those meals are woven into our family story.

Thank you for teaching me how to make lasagna, waffle sauce and buns, and for laughing with me when I baked my first ham with the plastic wrap still on. Thank you for showing that if we work together, even the hardest tasks can be handled—and quickly, too.

Most of all, thank you for raising the man who became my husband. Thank you for caring for him, guiding him, and pointing him to faith. You taught him that household work is shared, and that acts of service are for everyone. You also taught us that no matter how long you’re married, a kiss in the kitchen never loses its magic.

Thank you for loving your son so deeply that you welcomed me into the family and accepted me as your daughter-in-love. My life has been made richer because you are in it. You live out what you’ve taught us: when life’s storms come, we hold on to Jesus and to one another.

Even without a formal tally or a family meeting, I can say with certainty that you are so loved—by all of us.

We came together in Banff to honor her wish and to create new memories as a family. That time together reminded me how important it is to speak our hearts while we still have time. If there’s one thing I hope others take away from this, it’s to make time for the people you love—tell them, show them, and never take those moments for granted.

By us all.