"This is your former brother-in-law calling to tell you that Elizabeth passed on yesterday. I thought you'd want to know."

Stunned, I replayed the message. I hadn't recognized the voice at all. It had been many years since I had talked with him. It was Elizabeth's birthday and he had answered the phone as William. When I announced myself, he asked who Sylvia was. Shortly after our social niceties, he told me that his father and Eric's grandfather had died 2 months before. He had not thought to notify us.

Over the years, we had stayed in touch with Grandma Elizabeth, calling and sending cards and photo's. Even though she was often confused, she always responded to my name and Eric's. We were indelibly printed in her brain and heart.

A year ago, we were unable to reach Elizabeth at the number where she had been living. Uncomfortable with not knowing, I researched until I found names and phone numbers of other relatives. I called until I was connected to Elizabeth's sister who sympathized about not knowing where my mother in law was staying. She told me that she had been moved again and even her brother and sisters had not been told about her whereabouts.

We talked and I briefly filled her in on the news of our lives. In one moment she said it all, "You know that Billy has written Eric out of the will?" she sniped.

"I assumed as much," I responded. Eric and I had long before let go of any financial connection or needs related to his father's family. We had never built our life on any hopes for estates and monetary gifts.

Today, after listening to the phone message that Elizabeth was gone, I was struck with unexplainable emotions. It had been 10 years since Mike, my ex-husband had died. Billy had come to the funeral. Solicitous and sympathetic, he explained that he would be a good uncle and support Eric with all of the financial resources available now that his father was dead.

We never heard from him again until the latest phone call. Why was I left with an anxious nervous tension with a mind jumbled in random and disconnected thoughts? Should I go to the funeral? Eric was out of town on vacation. Would he want to go to the memorial services? What was necessary for me to do? What was appropriate? How could I release this wild furry that was stirring inside of me?

I had no information about the memorial services even though Billy said they would be this weekend. Mike's cousin who lives in Atlanta called to say that she would see what she could do to find out information. No information came and I thought that I could probably find the obituary in the city newspaper.

Eric chose not to go to the funeral and present himself as the only grandson. Since he did not need to go, I chose to complete my goodbye's in my own way. What was it that I needed to say...to be complete, to let go of the stories and attachments I had to what was, what could have been and what was now lost and over forever?

Today I read the obituary of my mother-in-law. There was no mention of her son, Michael, who had preceded her in death. There was no mention of Eric, her only grandson. We had been long ago written out of the script. It was now up to me to release and forgive.

Remembering my own coaching, I listened for completion messages..."I love you. This is what you mean to me. I am unhappy at your leaving AND I promise to be whole and complete without you."

My relationship with my mother-in-law had been complex and seldom fulfilling. There were disagreements and significant differences between her values and mine in relation to race and spirituality. Over the years, we had found a neutral meeting ground for of us both. We had limited our topics of conversation to repetitive safe topics. Ten years ago, I had reported to her my separation from Mike. I had called her when he died. I had participated in his memorial services with the family and neighborhood friends. I was still the daughter-in-law, even though Mike had remarried.

The need to forgive my history with this family screamed loudly. There truly was damage done with the accusations and paranoia about my heritage and my design on taking Mike away from his family. I was not Southern. I was no longer a church-going Catholic. I was a professional and worked full time. I knew many of the family secrets and didn't engage in the cross-fire of conflict. I was an enigma.

I too must have caused significant pain over the years, not meeting my new family's expectations. My sense of loyalty and allegiance to family demanded that I maintain a relationship with Eric as their grandson over the years. But now all the entanglement and attachments were no longer necessary. My job was done. Now I can move on without any sense of guilt for not having met what my sense of duty required.

My story with this family is complete. There is nothing left to hold in grief or in retribution. It is done.