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10 Oct

We Are Family…Although We’re Not Related

mestepanich Mary Ellen Stepanich, PhD 0 0

My family––meaning those related to me by blood––are very few. I have one brother, two nieces, a great-niece and great-nephew, one uncle and one aunt, and a sprinkling of cousins I seldom see. However, my “family” is huge, meaning those people whom I love, visit, e-mail, text, and Facebook.

I married my fourth (and best!) husband in 1983. Michael had a married daughter, Shari, in Milwaukee and a pre-teen son, Scott, who lived with us for a short while. He was supposed to be living with his mother, but he was a disruptive influence in her new marriage so she sent him back to us. But he was a disruptive influence to Michael, so back he went to his mother, where he managed to graduate from high school but then flunk out of three colleges. He appealed to me for help, so I enrolled him at Purdue where I was Associate Professor. He graduated and moved to Salt Lake City where he worked for a large insurance company for five years until he received his signing bonus, and then he hit the road for Denver.

Meanwhile, in Milwaukee, Shari’s marriage fell apart, primarily because her husband was cheating on her. Having had that experience myself, I was empathetic. Shari and I became very close, and I was more like a sister than a stepparent. We took trips together and she confided her innermost feelings to me. Ultimately, she fell in love with a wonderful man, John, and lived with him, with the blessing of her father and me.

Meanwhile, back in Lafayette, Indiana, my brother divorced his wife, Barb, the mother of my nieces, and married a much younger woman, Karin, whom I did not like, primarily because I felt she broke up my brother’s marriage. However, she had a mother and sisters in the Netherlands who became Facebook friends with my nieces. Eventually, Karin developed a heart problem and died.

Meanwhile, in Crawfordsville, Indiana, my ex-sister-in-law, Barb, and I continued to be friends, and my mother and I would visit her and her mother often, to the chagrin of my brother, her ex. Soon, she married a former high school sweetheart, Dave, and my mother and I loved him dearly, so much so that I always called him my favorite brother-in-law (even though he was no relation whatsoever.)

Meanwhile, back in Milwaukee, my beloved Shari passed away from cancer. John, the love of her life, was devastated and would come to see me every year and I would visit him when I was back in the Midwest. A few years later, he met a woman he liked, and he asked me to meet her and more or less give my “okay.” Interestingly enough, the woman pulled me aside and wanted my opinion of John and the relationship. So, I gave my blessing to both of them, and continued to be a sort of “mother-in-law” to John, and a Facebook grandmother to his daughter, Amanda, from his first marriage.

Meanwhile, in Denver, my stepson finally decided to settle down and marry a wonderful girl named Jennifer. But, my stepson’s mother (my husband Michael’s ex-wife) did not like Scott’s new wife and was mean to her, which made me love Jennifer even more. After a few years, the couple had a baby boy, Carter, but in the meantime Scott was having an extramarital affair and divorced Jennifer two months after the baby was born. I continued to visit Jennifer because I admired her and loved her, and I admit I despised Scott’s action in deceiving her and leaving her, even though I still had to love him because he was my beloved Michael’s son. I also had met all of Jennifer’s relatives and fell in love with them, and they now consider me part of their family, e-mailing and Facebook-ing regularly.

Meanwhile back in Lafayette, my brother was lonely so he signed up with Match.com, met a wonderful woman named Margaret who was his own age, became engaged to her two months after meeting her, and they were married four months later. Her family came from…everywhere: Oregon, California, the Netherlands, and Boston, to name a few. I loved them all; we made up songs and laughed together, and we became fast friends.

Meanwhile back in Denver, Jennifer (who was now my ex-step-daughter-in-law) and Scott (my stepson) shared custody of their son, Carter, who would have been my husband’s grandson, but he was technically my step-grandson. He calls me GramME, because Shari, Scott, and Jennifer always called me by my initials, ME. Now, Jennifer has a boyfriend, Pete, who can’t understand why I stay with Jennifer when I come to Denver, and not my stepson. He thinks I’m secretly trying to get Scott and Jennifer back together. He can’t understand that I love Jennifer, but I’m cordial to Scott because he is the father of my ex-step-grandson and I always want to be able to relate to him.

So, here I am in Phoenix, Arizona, a widow, living alone. But I have family everywhere, very few of whom are actually related to me. They say: “Blood is thicker than water.” But I say: “Love is thicker than blood.”

And I haven’t even mentioned my mother’s first cousin whose second wife was the older sister of his son’s wife. What a family!


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