This may sound harsh, but I am quite happy that both my MIL and Mr. Rattus' MIL have passed away. Mr. Rattus was lucky in that he never met his MIL (I'd broken contact with her ten years before I met the Mr.), but I did have the misfortune to trying to relate to my MIL. Mr. Rattus is the youngest of four sons, and while I am sure there is a woman on the planet who MIL would have been happy about his marrying (his former girlfriend, for example ), it wasn't me. Fortunately, when she wasn't on one of her annual two-month-long visits, she lived out west, but there were the twice weekly letters about "I met Bob's new girlfriend - oh, she's just lovely", and "Bill's wife is such a delightful woman", et al. Included in these semi-veiled hints as to what a bitch her baby married was the extolling of the virtues of the new wife of the second youngest son "oh, Lenore is such a pleasure - your brother is such a lucky man to have such a wonderful wife". So the year after they (and we) got married, MIL came for her yearly visit, but decided to stay with BIL instead of Mr. Rattus (wonder why?) for the two months. BIL and SIL had just had a baby (the reason they married in the first place) and the baby was colicy, so SIL was getting no sleep at all. So, new marriage, new constantly crying baby, new MIL visiting for two months who absolutely will not help out - not with the baby, not with the housework, not with anything. For some odd reason, SIL got cranky. Really, really cranky. MIL, the insensitive old sack of dirt, could not possibly understand the reasoning behind this and took great offense. As a consequence, Lenore is no longer #1 DIL, I am. Having lived with miserable, self-pitying, manipulative lunatics my entire life, I'm not falling for this crap. So, for the following decade, Mr. Rattus and the BIL did their annual visit with mom at her house, 2,000 kilometres away.
And I would like to point out that I am not entirely heartless. BIL (who had long since divorced SIL), had his mom move across country to live with him. Selfish p***k that he is, he determined after a month or two that an old lady living with him was just cramping his style, so he was looking to put her into a home in the city closest to his small town, where she knew absolutely no one. I jumped on it, got in touch with social services, declared it an emergency situation and managed to get her an apartment at an independent senior's building just up the road from us, where Mr. Rattus could visit her several times a week (and spend alllllll day Saturday, every Saturday, with her). So I'm not a complete bitch, since not only was there nothing in it for me, the whole situation really cramped my style. No spending a pleasurable rambling Saturday with my sweetie, more time alone than I really want (although I do love solitude), and no vacations for ten years because there was no one take care of her.
Anyway, no more MILs to deal with, my DIL passed away long before I ever met Mr. Rattus and my calling my dad out a few years on being a jerk has assured me that we will not have to deal with him again. So, yay!