Cindy K. Sproles is an author and a speaker, whose dream is to do nothing more than craft words that speak from the heart. God's plan seems to be for her to write and teach the craft. With God’s guidance, Cindy is expanding her horizons. We'll see how He uses her.
Cindy is a mountain gal. Proud of her heritage, she was born and raised in the Appalachian Mountains where life is simple, words have a deep southern drawl, and colloquialisms like, "well slap my knee and call me corn pone" seem to take precedence over proper speech. Apple Butter, coal mining, the river, pink sunrises, and golden sunsets help you settle into a porch swing and relax. Family, the love of God, and strong morals are embedded into her life in the mountains. Teaching writers, spinning fiction tales about life in the mountains, history, and down-home ideas find their way into all she does. “I love to write devotions, to seek after the deeper side of Christ, and to share the lessons He teaches me from life in the hills of East Tennessee. I am a writer. A speaker. A lover of God's Word and friend to all.” This is Cindy Sproles. Welcome home to the mountains.
Subscribe to Cindy Sproles' Posts or Newsletter
Got your attention, didn’t I? I could jest and say, “Who could hate me?” Seriously, I thought I was a nice person, but there isn’t a person alive who is literally loved by everyone. I’m no exception. However, I do feel you need to understand that I not only had one mother-in-law, but I had two. Let me explain. There’s more to the story.
Mother-in-law one, was lovingly referred to by her son (my first husband) as “West.” I know that means little to the average person, but her own son, in teasing, named her after the Wicked Witch of the West. We’ll just call her West.
Mother-in-law two, was the complete opposite. She could be called Glinda, the Good Witch of the East. I learned tons from Glinda, but we’ll save that for another post. Perhaps part two. For now, know that Glinda was the closest thing to my own mother. I loved her completely, talked for hours with her on the phone, and enjoyed the pleasure of her sweet-natured guidance up until her death. I still miss Glinda. She was an amazing woman.
But this post is about the things I learned from West. Now, I can’t say that I despised West. I didn’t. In fact, she could be a darling woman. She was funny and unafraid to “play.” She was a wicked shopper, meaning if you wanted something, West could find it at the ultimate lowest price, even if that meant cutting some sort of a deal with a store manager. West could be a joy – except when she wasn’t.
When I married my first husband, West let it be known that I was not a welcome member of the family. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was Princess Ann. West would not have deemed me worthy of her son. The only thing that made her tolerate me was the fact that I gave birth to the first two of her three grandchildren. Her despising me wasn’t personal, though it felt that way. It would have been that way for whom ever her son married.
It’s hard, even forty years after my divorce, to have to admit that she didn’t like me. It hurt and, honestly, still does. I wanted to be a part of her family, and despite my efforts, it was to no avail. Oddly enough, when West was stuffed away in a nursing home by her son, she called me weekly. We talked more in the last year of her life than we ever talked the forty years prior. Maybe part of that was her dementia. She’d simply forgotten the things she didn’t like about me, or maybe those years of trying to be kind to someone who refused my kindness paid off in the end. Either way, I grew to love West in a special way, and I think she grew to love me.
So, you ask, what could you learn from someone who hated you? Three things come to mind immediately, and I hope these are things that you can use in your life. I come to greatly appreciate them as good life lessons.
But, after our divorce, West and her hubs visited frequently to see the grandchildren. I gladly shared my boys with her and encouraged their phone calls and visits. After all, divorce wasn’t the fault of my boys, and these were their grandparents. So, when West visited, I went out of my way to love her, make her feel welcome, and share good memories with my boys. Lesson one was a long time in the coming, but I learned that the more I loved her, the less she had to complain about. Just before she passed. I called her to check-in.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Who is this?” She struggled to remember my name.
“It’s Cindy. Remember, I’m Chase and Cameron’s mom. You remember Chase and Cameron?”
“Oh, yes. I remember that you loved me even when I hated you. Thank you.”
Her words brought me to a halt. Love your neighbor even when it’s hard. It makes a difference. Love will sneak in, seep into the cracks of a hardened heart, and soften.
That was a wow moment. It was a moment that shamed me for the times I’d gotten angry over the rejection or the snide remarks. She finally told me she never blamed me for the collapse of my marriage to her son. “I knew he was an alcoholic. I knew he was unfaithful. I knew he never loved you, and I’m sorry I justified that.”
West passed away in April, 2016.
I cried at her loss. Only, instead of tears of hurt, they were true tears of loss. We’d not enjoyed a long and fruitful relationship, but that last year was private between her and me. It meant something to me. My boys had that love-hate relationship with West, too. They have great photos of her literally playing with them, camping, riding bikes, and laughing. I hope for them, the good outweighs the bad as well.
West was a unique woman. She was brave and motivating. She was determined and self-sufficient, and she loved her family in her own way. I learned a lot from a woman who hated me in the beginning and though things were rocky a lot of the time, I was gifted to call her friend.
God leads us to learn lessons in the most unusual places. Who’d have thought it would be in the wake of someone who hated me? Besides, the last time I spoke to West was about a month prior to her death. Her last words to me were a surprise.
“You know, I always loved you.” What could be better than that?
Photo one – Image by Cara Shelton from Pixabay
Photo two – Image by Andre_Grunden from Pixabay
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
We called mother-in-law one, West, because her son, in teasing, gave her that title. I also mentioned mother-in-law two and this is where I named her East and pulled from scripture a phrase, “As far as the east is from the west.” It was true. Two women couldn’t have been more different.
I felt it only fair to share the other side of Oz, so to speak and talk a little about the mother-in-law we call East.
I am convinced that God has given me the opportunity to know two TRUE angels on earth. One was my Aunt Reba. She was the person in our family who managed a family of four, worked full-time, farmed a huge garden, kept the books for her husband’s business, and cared for any and everyone in the family who had a need. I never thought I’d see another real angel until East.
East was this tiny, 4’5’ woman who could remember every person she ever met, where they lived, and who their family was. She, too, managed two boys, a hubby, and a full-time job with a local dentist. She was active in her church, and I mean physically active. East loved the Lord, and that was always her first propriety.
After the experience of West, I was a little leery about turning my back on anyone. But it didn’t take long for East to prove that not only did she consider me part of the family, but she called me daughter—not daughter-in-law. In fact, she called my other sis-in-law daughter as well. Why? Because East loved us both as her own.
In all the years I knew East, I never recall her saying one bad thing about anyone.
She did once say she didn’t trust this one person, but even in that remark, she noted that she was sure there were reasons none of us knew about to make this person the way they were. She was quick to give the benefit of the doubt and always willing to offer the underdog a second chance.
If I were to say anything about East, it would be that the love of Christ shined through her. She was happy, joyful, and kind. Her favorite thing was taking photos and making them into picture albums for folks.
If there was a group of six people, East would take a series of photos and then make six albums highlighting the occasion. When she passed, and my sis-in-law and I were sorting through the house, cleaning and donating, I opened a back closet. When I did, a stack of photo albums from floor to ceiling in the closet tumbled out on top of me. East was making albums for everyone. My sister-in-law giggled a bit during that cleaning-out phase. East never had a thing out of place in her home. She was truly the epitome of “everything has a place and everything in its place.” As we emptied out things, we found East may have been a tiny bit of a hoarder, hence why she could always come up with a gift when someone walked in the door. (She would have passed out as she realized we’d found her untidy stash of “stuff” in her very tidy house.)
East was, truly, as far as the East was from the West. I’m convinced when she went to bed at night, she hung her halo on the bedpost and gently put away her wings. She was a dear, kind, and tender woman, and you didn’t mess with her family. Under that very sweet exterior was a lion, and she could and would defend her family if necessary.
So, yeah. I had two mothers-in-law as far as the East was from the West. But each taught me so much. East changed addresses on January 10, 2009, and what a gaping hole she left in our hearts. She, along with her husband, raised two amazing, godly men, and the one I was blessed to marry 39 years ago became everything to me…my prince. East taught her boys well, and I hope that through the years, I’ve been able to follow in her footsteps with my boys and their wives. We’re a combined family, but I’ve never called my husband’s sons STEP sons. They ARE my boys. I wanted to love their wives as East loved me and to make them feel like they were not just the wives of my boys but my daughters as well.
I think East would be proud to see me from her view in heaven and to know how much I love her and her son, and her grandsons. I feel sure she’s pointing out any missed spots of tarnish on her halo to the master shiner in heaven.
Yes, as far as the East is from the West…my life is better because of them both.
Photo one – courtesy of Image by Mario Aranda from Pixabay ~ Photo two – courtesy of Image by congerdesign from Pixabay
Photo three– courtesy of Image by Dottie Lambertson from Pixabay