My fathers partner became my second mum
My mum passed away when I was only eight years old. My dad began drinking heavily, and there were times when we didnt have so much as a crust of bread at home. I found myself begging for food at school, my grades were terrible, my clothes were tatty, and before long the teachers took notice.
Social services inspectors visited our house several times, and soon my dad was given a strict set of conditions: if he didnt sort himself out, hed lose custody of me. Thankfully, that was the wake-up call he needed. He stopped drinking, pulled himself together, and from then on, the visits from the authorities went smoothly.
After a while, Dad told me he wanted me to meet a woman he cared for. We went round to Aunt Marys. I wasnt keen at firstmemories of Mum were still raw, and I didnt really approve of Dad starting something new with Aunt Mary.
But as soon as we started talking, I immediately felt the kindness in her heart. I became good friends with her son, James, who was a year older than me, and we began going together to athletics club after school. Dad was glad Id taken to his new partner, and within a month, wed moved in with Aunt Mary. Dad rented out our old flat for some extra income.
Dad never got the chance to marry Aunt Mary; he was killed when a drunken driver hit him. Officially, I was no relation of Aunt Marys, and social services came and took me to a childrens home. When I left, Aunt Mary promised me that shed bring me back home as soon as she could.
She kept her promise. Two months later, I was living with her once more. Those two months had been more than enough to make me appreciate how harsh and lonely a childrens home can be. I was deeply grateful to Aunt Mary for not abandoning meshed truly become a second mother. She is a remarkable woman, and her son is every bit a real brother to me.
Now were both grown up with families of our own, but Mum Mary remains the person closest to my heart, and to my brothers. Twice a mother-in-law, yet never once has she had a row with her new children. Not once has she heard the word mother-in-law from any of them. My wife and my brothers wife both call her Mother Mary, grateful for her warmth and understanding. And every time someone addresses her so, genuine happiness shines in Marys eyes.
