Two Years

Two years ago, my life changed in ways I never would have fathomed. Bonus Mom suddenly died. All week I have been in mild to severe stages of hot mess. I blame it on the grief that just won't go away. I still cry. I still ache. I miss her terribly. This week Polly and I haven't seen eye to eye and I so wanted to call Bonus Mom and ask for advice. I wanted to know what exactly she said to me when I was at that same age to make everything better, because I just don't know how to reach and inspire Polly right now.

When I was commiserating about Bonus Mom recently, Jane suggested I make a list of what I loved about her. I'm not sure where to begin. I can tell you this. When I was 18 (Polly's age) I was a complete train wreck. I was spiraling downward at an accelerated pace, lost unsure of where to go. I was vulnerable and would have made some terrible and irrevocable choices if Bonus Mom and Dad hadn't been my accidental safety net.

I originally met her through her son. He and I had dated briefly in high school. We stayed in touch. One day, long after we ended, I went over to visit him and ended up talking to Bonus Mom for several hours. They were leaving soon for Michigan for their annual vacation and asked me if I would house sit. Given I was currently sleeping on the floor on a sheet at my parent's home, a bed sounded great! I moved in for their three week vacation, which turned into renting a room from them while I worked and went to school. Later, when I moved out, Bonus Mom handed me a check for the rent I had paid them, telling me to come back any time.

Which I did. For 30+ years. There has always been an open door at their home for me and my family. Always. Even after Bonus Mom passed Bonus Dad and their sons and wives have been welcoming and loving.

What I loved about Bonus Mom was that she had a loving and kind heart. Those aren't just platitudes. She took the time and energy to listen when I needed to be heard. She gave to me unconditionally and asked for nothing in return. She loved and wanted me at a time when I felt unlovable and unwanted.

Bonus Mom taught me how to Mother. She taught me to bake and sew. But I have to tell you, banana bread always tasted better when she made it. Bonus Mom held me when whatshisname and I broke up. She also offered her back yard for my wedding reception. (Marty was a better choice--she told me later--than old whatshisname). She made super-girly dresses for Polly the super girly-girl. She was there for the birth of Buckaroo, not only coming home early from Michigan but getting up at the crack of dawn that October morning and driving 50 miles just to be there to hold my hand.

We didn't refer to to each other as "mother" and "daughter," though we (and everyone who knew the relationship) defined us that way. It was actually Bonus Dad at her funeral who first spoke it, "You were her daughter," he said to me, hugging me as we both cried that day. And I was. But I got the better end of the deal. She was my Bonus Mom.