by Linda Shortell

Created on: August 04, 2008   Last Updated: October 25, 2009

When my mother died, I was heartbroken. My mother was a humanitarian, a registered nurse, and a brilliant businesswoman. My family fell apart when my mother died. We did not want to celebrate holidays. My siblings and I felt angry that women were interested in my father so soon after my mother died. We did not want a stepmother.

My father met my stepmother at a grief support meeting. Her husband had died around the same time that my mother died. My stepmother also lost her eighteen-year-old daughter in a tragic snowmobile accident several years earlier. I cried when I heard the story.

The first time I saw the lady that would become my stepmother, I was walking my dog in the park. Her dog ran up to us barking. My dog made friends with her dog. I liked the way she looked. She was close to my father in age. She looked tanned and strong. I learned that she lifted weights, swam, and participated in a number of sports, including golf. She was a lot better than any of those other women who were chasing my father. We had a lot in common. I could not help liking her.

After my stepmother married my father, she sold her beach house and moved in to the house I grew up in. She remodeled the house. She added a balcony, a window seat, and pet doors. I would soon learn that she is very different than my mother, but very talented in her own way. My stepmother is a very social person and soon made friends with all the neighbors. She is a great cook and an immaculate housekeeper. Our house was a sad place when my mother was dying. She turned our house into a happy home again.

My stepmother came with a black dog named Shyla and a big furry cat named Butterscotch. She loves animals as much as I do. Butterscotch made friends with a small feral cat in the neighborhood. My stepmother tried to catch and tame the feral cat for over a year. One day, we noticed the little feral cat was getting fat. She was pregnant. Butterscotch was neutered, so he was not the father. My stepmother was very concerned about the pregnant cat, but she was still not able to catch her.

When my stepmother saw the feral cat looked like she had given birth, she was very worried about the kittens. We had no idea where the mother cat had stashed them. My stepmother told all the neighbors about the kittens and searched the neighborhood. When the kittens were three weeks old, my stepmother found them hidden in an old piece of furniture in a neighbor's backyard. The kittens were infested with fleas.

My stepmother is very

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>