Practical
Experience
Talk about “been
there, done that”! I have personal experience with step
relationships in many different areas and ages. I guess I have a
favorite story that typifies each relationship very plainly.
The first step relationship in my life was with my grandmothers’
second husband. Although my grandfather was alive and sending
birthday cards and such, Pete, my step-grandfather was far more
important to me. When my mother married my father, they traveled to
the opposite side of the country to live. When I was born, my
grandmother and Pete flew out to meet me, but it was not that visit
that I am about to relate. When I was old enough to be learning how
to talk, the grandparents were due for another visit, and my Mom was
determined to teach me how to say “Hi, Grammy and Grandpa Pete.”
When we were all in the car after having picked them up at the
airport, I dutifully recited the rehearsed line to which Pete
replied “For God's sake, just tell her I’m a friend of the family!”
That was Pete’s sense of humor, and it was so typical of his modest,
quiet, unassuming personality that I felt compelled to stand up at
his funeral to relate it to everyone there. All of the people in
the room were lifelong friends and family of Pete’s and they all
smiled lovingly and knowingly at this memory. Pete never tried to
take my grandfather’s place in my family, he just made his own. He
was my first teacher in stepfamily matters. He was the example that
I would forever hold as the best that anyone could ever live up to.
My stepfather was the next person to impress me with his ability to
create a loving familial relationship where there once was none.
When my mother married him I was going into third grade. I have
twin brothers two and a half years younger than myself, and we were
all part of the tiny wedding which took place at Grammy and Pete's
house that year. When we began life as this new family, we moved to
a new house which was also new to both parents. It was also a new
town, which meant new schools for us kids. The stepfather had three
daughters, but the youngest was about to start college and never
lived with us. Despite the careful way Mom and the new stepfather
got together, I had already decided that I did NOT need another
adult telling me what to do in life. I recall one evening just
before dinner in the new house, shortly after we had moved there,
sitting my brothers down in my new bedroom and telling them that it
wasn’t necessary for them to listen to anything the stepfather had
to say because “he wasn’t our REAL father anyway!” Mom obviously
overheard this conversation (the house was built in 1803 with
consistent acoustics) and she and the stepfather told us that they
wanted to have a talk with us in the living room after the dinner
dishes were done. When we were all seated, my stepfather asked us
what we thought a “real” father was. Then he and my Mom proceeded
to tell us what made a real father. I attempted to dislike the new
stepfather for the next five years, but because he consistently did
the things that a “real” father does, at some unknown point I
started calling him Dad instead of by his first name. I think my
brothers were the first to make this shift. By the time we were
teenagers, there was no question in our minds as to who a real
father was; it was the guy we called Dad!
We had no contact with our birth father from the time our mother
divorced him, and never missed him, even once. That was because
there was never a time that our REAL Dad was not there for us when
we needed him; even though Mom and he divorced when I was 18. When
we were little kids, when we were adults, until the day he died, he
was there for us.
As for those three stepsisters, when our Dad died and I was talking
to them for the first time in ages, they all wanted me to send their
regards to MY mother, even though their divorce happened at least 20
years previous to his death. They related the fondness they felt
for her as their stepmother (my Mom), even though their own mother
had always been present in their lives. This was a tribute to the
job my Mom did as a step parent, and I have always known that her
example was one I should emulate.
I have three step sons, but was only a full time parent to the
youngest one when I married his father. I’ll call him Nick to
protect his innocence (ha!). Nick lived with his father, myself and
my daughters during his 12th, 15th, 16th,
and 17th years. REALLY easy years-hormonally! Through
all of the trials and tribulations that we endured, Nick made his
way successfully to the life he now leads with his wife and son. I
have saved a mother’s day card that he gave me when he was 17
because it says: “You may not be my real mom, but you’re doing a
great job treating me like a son. Thanks!
When Nick was eight, nine and maybe 10 years old; he might have held
out as long as I did with my stepfather, he decided he was going to
hate my eldest daughter. After living with us, after having shared
the same rules under my thumb as the daughters did, it turned out
that they had a real, live, sibling love for each other. Including
all that REAL siblings do when they stick together and hide things
to protect each other from the “parents”! When I saw that going on,
I knew I had succeeded as stepmother.
It was shortly after Nick became an adult and had moved out into the
world that I finally knew what I wanted to be when I, myself,
grew up! It was because of Nick, and all of the other steps
in my life that I knew I wanted to help others become successful in
their step relationships.
The one common factor that exists in all of these stories is the
fact that at some point in every one of these many relationships the
word “step” completely dropped out of the picture. This is the goal
I hope to assist other families in attaining. |
