In 1990, my mom died of cancer. She was 50 years old and I was only 15. It was very hard on my family. All of us kids had to accept more responsibility, including keeping an eye on ourselves now that our parent wasn't around to do something like that. My dad, I believe, had it hardest of us all. He had four kids at home, he still had all of the responsibilities to provide for them, but now also all the responsibilities of raising them up right all on his own.
For about four years, he struggled his way through this, barely scraping by and having little in the way of social or personal support. Then, in 1994, my oldest brother set my dad up with a woman that he'd met while living in North Carolina. My dad took a risk, and decided to marry this woman without really spending much time in any courting. Their positions on opposite coasts made it impossible to do that kind of thing, so he just decided, "Let's go for it."
That woman's name was Marilyn, and she became my stepmom. Things were difficult at first for us all. It took a while for us to come to grips with the situation and come to understand this new person who had arrived out of the blue and was now living in our house. She was from a very different culture than our laid back California lifestyle, and we bristled at a lot of the changes she wanted us to make.
I was at the age that I was leaving the house anyway, so it was least difficult on me. I moved on to college, got married, and started my own life. Unlike some of my older brothers and sisters, though, I had lived at home while Dad was alone, and I'd seen how desperately miserable and lonely he'd been in those years, so if Marilyn made him happy, then I figured that anything was worth it.
Dad and Marilyn, despite the irregularity of their initial connection, managed to stick it out. They stayed together for the rest of Dad's life. He passed away back in 2019, and has to be one of the only people I've ever heard of to be married for 25 years to two different people. That seems impressive to me.
As the years went by, we all grew to love an appreciate Marilyn more and more. I tried to show her my love and appreciation whenever I could. She always used to send birthday cards to everyone, and she would sign them: Love, "Mom" Marilyn. I thought that was funny or odd at first, but eventually I found it tragic, and I made it a point to try to never call Marilyn by her name anymore. She wanted to be Mom, and in the end, she deserved to be called Mom. So, whenever we sent her a card, or I saw her, or we talked on the phone, I called her Mom, and I think she really responded to that, and appreciated it very much.
Mom, sadly, has been alone for five years now since Dad passed away. It was a sudden death. He had been fine one week, then got sick the next week, and was dead the next. So, their time together was almost completely joyful. I'm really glad that there wasn't a prolonged period of decline for them like what happened with my mother when she passed. Marilyn, who hadn't had a particularly joyful life up until she met Dad, got to have a wonderful ending.
Now, Mom has gone to join Dad on the other side. Yesterday morning at about 1:15 AM, she passed away. She tripped and fell a few days ago, hitting her head and causing cranial bleeding. That progressed until her body couldn't function any longer and it shut down for good. Like with Dad, it wasn't a prolonged period of decline or a particularly traumatic or painful one, so I'm grateful for that.
I'm also very grateful to have had her in my life. She was very special to me. She was a character, as many southern folks are. I loved to listen to her talk. Her accent was fun and her personality was vibrant. Usually, all I could do was listen to her talk, because I could never get a word in edgewise anyway. I'm going to miss her a lot. She was a great replacement mother for me and has been a wonderful grandmother for my kids. I just feel honored to have been allowed to know her while I did. Thanks, Mom.
