Twenty-five years ago, my two stepsons were 11 and 13 when their dad and I got married. To them, I have always been “Stepmother” or “my dad’s wife,” which is fine because that is who I am.
However, to their children, Colin (10) and Erin (6), I’m Nana — married to Grandpa. Period. They don’t know me as “StepNana.” I’ve been a part of their lives since they were born.
Not long ago, Colin and I had the opportunity to go to brunch together. Since it was a gorgeous Florida day, I decided to take him to a buffet that overlooks a golf course. Even though there was a large selection of food, he chose to pile his plate with bacon and luscious oranges. I smiled.
As we chatted, he told me about a recent visit with his maternal grandma in Minnesota. She taught him how to sew a quilt and make peanut butter pie (his favorite). I instantly felt a pang deficiency in “Martha Stewart” skills, and “Grandma Guilt” began taking over.
After awhile I asked him, “What’s your favorite subject in school?” Without hesitation he replied, “Bible Class.” Great! The conversation was moving from sewing and cooking onto something I enjoyed — faith and God’s Word. Our discussion went deep, and I was impressed by his insights.
Later that night as I was showing him how to pack his suitcase efficiently so the plethora of clothes and toys would fit inside, I realized something very important.
His other grandma teaches him excellent life skills, such as how to cook, bake, and sew. I teach him how to choose the best meal on the menu, pack a suitcase effectively, and understand more about God’s character.
Joy saturated my mind as I thought about the diversity the two grandmas are pouring into this sweet young man’s life. And what a great catch he is going to be one day for some young woman!
His wife will have a husband who passionately loves God and can make a peanut butter pie. It doesn’t get any better.