I mentioned awhile ago that my mom is getting married. I know that a lot of people have parents who are remarried, but growing up I never imagined that someday I’d have a “step dad.”
It’s interesting to be the youngest daughter and play the old-married lady role for my mom, not that she needs marriage advice, it’s the wedding aspect the my sister and I have been helping her with.
The times that things get a little tricky are when I tell people the my mom is engaged. Those who know me and who knew my dad know that I loved my dad dearly and that my parents’ relationship was a strong example to me of a committed, loving marriage. My parents fought my dad’s cancer together and when he passed away two years ago, we knew that he didn’t want my mom to be alone. But when I said, “My mom is engaged,” or “My mom is getting married,” the immediate response from people was, “Are you okay with that?” or “How does that make you feel?”
To be frank, it’s weird.
But am I okay with it? Yes.
My mom’s fiance is a nice man, who is clearly crazy about her and regularly drives more than 250 miles to visit her. He treats her with care and respect. But that is not enough for me to consider him “okay,” since he is dating a woman with three grown children and an expanding pack of grandchildren.
What makes him “okay” with me is that he
tolerates survives us and dare I say, he likes us. He has crawled around on the carpet with the toddlers and on more than one occasion run out of lap space because they climbed up on him.
Being the childless couple in the family, I appreciate that he has also taken an interest in us. He really likes Brad and in the larger, extended-family gatherings, I can usually find him and my husband in close proximity to each other, possibly finding a reprieve in quieter conversations with smaller groups of people.
Here’s what really won me over though:
We were helping my mom move and organize some things that she’d had in storage since moving back to Ohio. We ran across my dad’s old flashcards from when he was learning Greek. My dad took Greek when he was getting his Master’s of Divinity degree. Since I was homeschooled at that time, he would study when I would study and sometimes I would help him by following him around the house and showing him flashcards. My mom told her fiance (boyfriend at the time) that story and he looked at me and said with complete sincerity, “He sounds like a cool dad.”
I know I used the label “step dad” earlier, but that won’t be what I call him. Everyone is okay with us calling him by his first name and when I talk about him to others he’ll be “my mom’s husband.” And he’s already family to us.
I just found out that my Tea Party Dress refashion was nominated for a blog award.
I’d love it if you’d go vote for me for Best DIY Post!