Remembering Sue
Mother-in-law is a phrase that evokes a feeling, I think, for young women of a certain age. Existential dread, maybe, mortal terror, perhaps. A negative connotation that I always feel the need to preemptively quash. I have to forestall any misunderstanding of this relationship that has been so precious to me and foundational to my transition to adulthood (insofar as such a thing can be said to have taken place) and my development of a sense of self.
Sue Hollingshead was unlike any woman I had and have met. She was fiercely intelligent, incredibly competent, independent, good-humored, generous, patient. She had a family, a career, a chronic illness… the magazines never even talked about that last part when they talked about having it all. But that had been such a big part of my life experience growing up, and it didn’t define hers or her family’s.
And it wasn’t so much that she was kind or thoughtful — because she was both, enormously so. But she was responsible. Not a righteous or boring responsibility but one borne of love, care, duty to family and loved ones — so rare it sounds like something out of fiction or epic poetry.
I feel so lucky to have known her and to have learned from her. My heart hurts to think of years ahead without her. I miss her good advice, her impeccable timing, her encouragement, and mostly, I just miss her.
Sue, I’ll keep after that tall, tall boy of yours. That new kidney is doing a great job so far and I promise we’ll make the most of it.
Thank you for everything. I love you always.