Did Stepmoms deserve recognition on Mother’s Day?

My mother left when I was nine years old. From then on, we were raised by my dad and when he got remarried a couple years later, by my stepmom.

We were supposed to visit mom every other week, but it didn’t work out that way. It didn’t matter much. Growing up is done in the little moments. Whether you’re getting ready for bed, or just getting home from school, going to the store or just watching a TV show together—these countless, seemingly meaningless moments during which we live our lives are the times in which we bond with our parents. We hear their stories and they hear ours. We love, laugh, cry and learn together. We drive each other crazy and love each other anyway.

The parent who is away is inherently stuck with a diminished role. By definition, there are vastly fewer “everyday moments” for them and there is almost always a sense that the visit has to be something “special,” usually meaning the parent feels obliged to constantly entertain their children so they’ll want to keep coming.

It’s love via the checkbook, and it’s to no avail. The relationship will be different. You can’t buy what time provides and you can’t entirely make up for the loss of it.

My mom had added burdens. She was an alcoholic.

There’s a selfishness that comes with such afflictions that is difficult for those without the experience to understand. It can also be difficult to recognize for those who live with it. When it’s a loved one, you’re practically wired to accommodate them and see it as normal. When and if you finally see it, it is hard not to resent.

My relationship with my mom is certainly not what it would have been if she had stayed. She made some big mistakes in life, and there have been costs.

When someone asks who raised me, my first thought is of my stepmother. That’s not a something any mom dreams of for her son.

There are many moms out there that have made big mistakes, and it can be hard for their kids (at any age) to know what to do on days like Mother’s Day. Does acknowledging the day mean living a lie—pretending that everything was as it should be? Can you half-acknowledge the day?

For me the answer was in thinking back to the times in which my mom was wonderful: when she patiently involved me in her various crafts; when she hugged me after a sad day at school; or when she washed, fed, and clothed a young friend whose home life was such that no child should bear. I think of those things and the fact that she bore me into this life so that I can experience the joys of it and “Happy Mother’s Day!” becomes easy to express.

We are commanded to honor our father and our mother. But what about stepmothers? What grace should we afford them?

Read more about this here.