e eternal words of Rus the Moavis reached down through centuries of mother-in-law/ daughter-in-law dynamics to guide me
It was Erev Shabbos, and my husband, Uri, and I had tumbled straight out of Newark Liberty International Airport into the alternative universe of the hospice ward of Sloan Kettering with our few bundles. We were visiting my mother-in-law, giving my overworked siblings-in-law a desperately needed break.
“Hey, is this your biggest dream, or your greatest nightmare, to be roommates with Uri and me for the next four days?” I asked my mother-in-law.
They say every joke has a little bit of truth in it.
My mother-in-law smiled. We’d gotten the heads-up that she wasn’t speaking much these days.
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