When you were blessed with a  great Mom who gave everything she had to make sure you had everything you needed, how do you learn to call someone else “Mom”?

<<Sigh>> Well it was this Monday in October of 1996 that I received the early morning call that Mom had passed away.  Actually, the phone call only said that she was in the hospital having suffered a heart attack.  This was a shock because at 49 she was in such good health.  I practiced my “this is your warning, you are done smoking now” lecture while packing my bag for the 2 hour ride and expected long day of waiting at the hospital. I didn’t get to give my lecture, though.  She was already gone. Mama S had left the building.  And this earth.  That’s all I can say about that right now, except to make the point that she was a remarkable vibrant woman who spent her time as my Mother filling my life with joy and making sure that every little spot in my heart was stuffed with love at all times.

So a loss like that takes a toll.  You aren’t necessarily even aware of that constant source of love vibes flowing your way until it stops.  Now what?

Well, you wake up and you move on.  That’s what me and Dad did.  I mean seriously, as thick as I just laid it on about my Mom, my Dad’s love and compassion is equal to, if not even greater.  Definitely gushier. I may not have been able to enjoy my parents for as many years as a lot of other people, but there was at least TWO lifetimes worth of love and joy crammed into our 27 years together.  We didn’t know what the future held, but Dad and I acknowledged how fortunate we were to have her for any amount of time, and soldiered on. I have to stop for a second here and check on my Dad.  You alright Macho Man?

Enter: The “Step Mom”.  Things were a blur for about the first year and I never got around to connecting the dots once I came back to the planet, but at some point Dad met M, and there was just “something about M” that he liked.  They dated quietly for a little while, sneaking around and acting irresponsibly.  Even though I had moved back home I never met her.  Which was fine, I mean, the change in my Dad since meeting her was amazing and wonderful.  He’d gone from a lump of sadness and depression and constant source of worry for me, to a born again teenager and constant source of irritation to me.  So even though I wasn’t thrilled about another woman, I was overjoyed in his happiness. I better take a second here to check in on Lady M… am I in trouble for not giving you a heads up?

Here’s the thing about M.   She had lost her Hubby one sad month before Dad lost Mama S.  They were two train wrecks helping each other back on track.  Whereas Dad just had me to break the news to, M had three protective sons, Moe, Larry, and Curly,  each grieving in their own ways.  No wonder they were keeping things on the down low!

When the day finally came to meet M I was nervous for me and her and excited for Dad.   (Shout out to Dr. Cousin K, ballroom dancer and hamster veterinarian extraordinaire for accompanying me to the big meeting.)  My goal was to be friendly and give my blessing, I had no intention of forming opinions, investing energy, or falling in love.  Guess what happened??? The first person to guess right gets a an autographed copy of my book when it’s finished.  As soon as I start it.  

Oh yeah.  Loved her from the moment she walked in the door smiling big and a little bit shaking.  I should have hated her because she was so tiny and cute.  Mom and I were able to share clothes sometimes.  The only thing this lovely M lady and I were going to be able to share was… EEEEEK!  My Dad!  She wasn’t a ho!  She had no agenda!  She was precious and we were all drawn to her!  That was horrible… because that meant she was sticking around.  Let the rollercoaster ride of emotion begin.  Cue the Red Hot Chili Peppers.  

Despite my adoration for Lady M, I had my eyes on her.  Surely she would slip some time and show her true self.   After a few months I got bored with being suspicious.  It was more fun just being with her and falling more in love.  By the end of 1998 Dad and Lady M were engaged.  This was fantastic news but there could have been a better time to share the news with me than on my 30th birthday.  I mean, HELLO!  Happy for you but I am turning 30 today!  Still not married!  I made you nachos so you could at least let me bask in the fact that I was aging rapidly and turning into a spinster before you flashed your big rock in front of me.  I’m just saying.

So that one misstep aside, (totally stretching that for silly affect, by the way, to give Dad and Lady M a chance to get tissues and recover from the first parts of this post), Lady M turned out to be an amazing and much needed addition to our family.  She really was the angel that mended our little broken family.

Our families have blended, like the Brady Bunch except the kids were teenagers and adults and there are only 4 of us.  But here is where the problem for me lies. And I bet there are others who have struggled with this same issue.

I already had a great Mom.  I called her “Mom”, “Mama”, “Mumma”, “Mother”, “Mommy”, “Ma”, and “Looney”.  All the great maternal names have already been taken.  Can I possibly consider calling Lady M one of those names?

Well she certainly deserves it and I overwhelmingly feel it.  In my mind I call Lady M “Ma”.  But when I try to say it out loud it feels like a betrayal to my Mother.  When I introduce her to people or talk about Lady M, though, I can’t stomach to call her my “Step Mom” because the connotation doesn’t suit her.   I don’t use the “step” to describe my new brothers, so it should be natural to let the “moms” flow with regards to her.  Instead I just call her “Lady M”.  (not really.  That’d be weird.  You know her name’s not Lady M, right? But you know what I mean).  But as we’ve become closer over the years “Lady M” is just not special enough, you know?

So here I am, 12 years later, almost 40 years old, still struggling with what to call my Step Mom.   So apparently not EVERYTHING gets better with time.  Considering I spent the day yesterday unexplainably crying in and out, having not paid attention to the date, it is clear that there is still some healing going on inside.  I would agree with saying time soothes the pain but it doesn’t necessarily mend the wounds.  We need our Family and Friends for the mending and I cannot imagine what things would be like today if I hadn’t been blessed with my Mama M.

Tell us about your experiences with step family and what you call them.  EXCEPT YOU EB!  Your descriptions will not pass the censors! XO

Right about here is where I usually give a short shout to the artist whose image I snagged from Flickr.com.  But this Artist and WAHM of 2 has a collection of the most precious art I have seen and I want to make sure you notice her link.  Her sweet whimsy appeals precisely to me and fits what I am feeling as I write this post. Please check her out at Sweet Imaginations.