For those of you readers who know me, you know I’ve had four husbands…and no children. Well, let me rephrase that. I’ve married four men, and there were no little bundles of joy in those marriages. There was, of course, a lot of childish behavior…on their part.

My fourth husband was the best of the lot, despite the fact we were products of two totally different value systems. I was from the rural mid-west (Indiana), raised with the Golden Rule, “Do Unto Others As You’d Have Them Do Unto You.” My husband, Michael, was born and raised in the heart of the city (New York), raised with a different rule, “Do Unto Others Before They Can Do It To You.” On the other hand, we were both born in January, both Capricorns, and we had very similar goals in life…to work hard, save money, and enjoy our families.

Michael had two children, a pre-teen son and a grown daughter. His children were very dear to me, especially his daughter, Shari. We shared many wonderful weekends and trips together, and I was heartbroken when cancer took her from me, a few years after her father died. His son, Scott, was a bit of a handful as a youngster, but he grew up to be a handsome young man with a degree from Purdue and a determination to make it big in business.

Scott’s career took him from Lafayette, to Salt Lake City, to Denver, to Phoenix, to Chicago, and back to Denver, his favorite location. There were women in each location, of course, but no one “special,” i.e., no one permanent. Until 2010, when he married Jennifer, the most beautiful, smart, hard-working, fun, young lady who was also a marvelous cook. (Can you tell that I really like her)? In October 2012, they were blessed with an adorable baby boy, Carter Scott Stepanich.

Unfortunately, the marriage ended soon thereafter. Fortunately, they both wanted me to be a part of little Carter’s life. It’s difficult to explain to people the exact nature of my relationship with these young people. Scott is my stepson. Jennifer is now my ex-step-daughter-in-law. Carter is my step-grandson. But I’m as crazy about that little boy as if he were a blood relative.

A couple of weeks ago, Jennifer wrote to me that Carter had been “reading” the book I gave him for his birthday––one of those books that one can record so that the child hears your voice reading the words on the page. He finished the book, looked up at his mother, and said, “When is Gramme going to come see me?” Within an hour, I had responded to Jennifer, settled on a date, ordered a birthday present, and made airplane reservations.

When a grandchild calls, a grandmother answers…even if she is only an ex-step-grandmother.