My Moms... My Heroes...

For most of my life, the last 20 years at least, I have had two moms. This is a VERY difficult concept for most people to understand. My husband, in particular, struggles with the idea step families. I find that odd because his dad is not the biological father of his older sister, and his family is, in fact, also a blended family, but regardless...
When I was 7, my parents divorced. My mom got re-married just a few days before my 8th birthday to my wonderful step-dad Bob. My dad stayed single for a while longer. About a year and a half after the divorce, he married Linda, who brought along with her 7 children from her first husband.
Due to a very complicated and completely unnecessary series of events, I ended up growing up primarily with Dad, Linda, and her kids. I love my mom, so very much. But I also love my step-mom, too. She was easily the strongest figure in my childhood, and I honestly believe that one of the best things my dad ever did for me was fighting so hard for the opportunity to raise me with her.
My mother taught me to appreciate beauty. She taught me the names of all the plants and flowers. She encouraged and nurtured my artistic side. She taught me the value of laughter. She taught me the importance of music, and the importance of kindness. She taught me to value family and tradition and culture.
My step mother taught me most everything else there is to know. She ran a tight ship, and expected nothing but the very best from me and everyone else. She never gave anyone the run-around. She hated falseness, and pretenses, and loved people like her who would tell it just like it was.
She taught me to work hard, and not to make excuses for myself or my failures. She taught me how to take responsibility for my actions. She taught me how to be honest. She taught me how to stand up for myself. She taught me how to call someone on their B.S. She taught me to never, ever quit. She taught me how to fight my own battles. She taught me how to cook. She taught me how to keep a house so clean you could eat off the floors. She taught me how to arrange flowers. She taught me how to balance a check book. She taught me how to keep a poker face. She taught me how to match my clothes and put on makeup. She taught me how to be in charge and step-up when leadership was needed. She taught me how to teach. She taught me the priceless value of hand-made, and the urgency of adding chocolate chips to everything. She taught me the importance of the little things. She taught me how to plan and save for my future. She taught me how to stay on task. She taught me that when life deals you a crummy hand, sometimes cleaning up will really make you feel better.
She was by no means perfect, but I honestly believe that she was given some tough breaks in her life and did the very best with what she had. She taught me that, too... how to make do with what you get. She taught me everything I know about being a step-mother, including the fact that it's possible to love your step-kids like they're your own. She taught me that sometimes when you love someone enough it's okay to be in the background, as long as you get to stay in the picture somehow.
My dad and my step-mom got divorced about a month before I got married. Going through my wedding day without her was one of the hardest things I've ever done, because she and I talked about it and planned it together for years. I spent most of the first few years of my marriage totally lost because for good or for bad, she was my compass for so long. I never really got to the point where I felt comfortable being close to her again, because for some reason it felt treasonous, but I never stopped loving her, or missing her, or silently resenting the circumstances that kept us from being close like we were before. We always kept in touch from a distance, and I always made a point of coming to any family activity I was invited to, because despite the legalities of the situation, I will always consider her to be my mom and her children to be my brothers and sisters.
It's tricky, and it's complicated, but it makes sense to me so I don't care if it makes sense to anyone else.
I saw her again in February this year when I went ot my little sister Lisa's wedding. She was so beautiful, I believe she was actually glowing. Honestly, I have never seen her look so radiant in all my life. We were sat at the same table, and we got to spend the time talking, laughing, and reminiscing. She hugged me so many times that night, I lost count. When I was leaving, she thanked me for coming and told me it was important. I didn't understand then, but I do now.
Three years ago or so, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a double masectomy and went through multiple rounds of chemo. She was in remission for a while, but then it returned with a vengaece. I think she knew in February that her time was close and that it was time to say goodbye. I'm so glad I got to spend that beautiful, perfect day with her and her children. I felt like I had my family back for the first time in a long time.
Lisa's wedding was the last time I got to see her. She died last night in her home, surrounded by her children. She didn't feel any pain. The official cause of death, I believe, was liver failure, although the cancer had spread to so much of her body that in the end, it could have been anything.
I knew the end was near, as Brendan (her youngest son and my half-brother) has been living with me for the past 2 months and has given me regular updates. I thought I was ready, but I don't think there's ever anything you can do to be ready for the death of your mom (we dropped the "step" years ago).
I love her so much, and I will miss her so much, but I'm grateful for the plan of salvation. I don't know how my tricky, messed-up family is going to be sorted out in the end, but I know I will see her again, and that families, no matter how complicated, really are forever.

Linda Grace Streeper June 7, 1952-October 11, 2010