I always wondered why my icy mother-in-law, Carol, guarded her storeroom like it held the crown jewels. After her passing, I was finally allowed to step inside and discover that I was completely wrong about her.
My mother-in-law, Carol, was the undisputed matriarch of her small family, which consisted of just her and her son, Eric, whom I married several years ago.
A couple looking happy | Source: Midjourney
She was a woman whose presence filled every room she entered, and the most intimidating person I’d ever met. But she wasn’t just strict. Her voice was sharp and commanding. Additionally, she was always put together.
Her silver hair was styled to perfection, and her clothes were prim and proper. But the most notable part of her physical appearance was her icy blue eyes. I often avoided looking directly at her because it seemed like she could read my mind.
An elegant woman | Source: Midjourney
Yet, beneath all that control, there was something else. A sadness, maybe? A heaviness she carried but never spoke of. Carol was a widow, who raised Eric on her own after her husband’s death just after he was born.
I could tell life had toughened her, and she had to build a fortress around herself to keep her family going. And I mean this metaphorically and physically. Aside from her frosty demeanor, she had a storeroom in her home that no one was allowed into, not even Eric.
A closed door | Source: Midjourney
It was an actual rule and something she would remind me and my husband every time we visited: “Stay out of the storeroom.”
I remember one time, early in my marriage, I accidentally brushed against the door while walking down the hall to the bathroom. Before I even realized what happened, Carol was in front of me, blocking my way like a linebacker.
“Emily,” she snapped as the wrinkles around her eyes tightened, “there’s nothing in there for you.”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, startled. “I’m sorry, Carol. I wasn’t trying to go in. I just—”
“Just stay out,” she interrupted, raising her...
