Days After Thanksgiving

What It Feels for a Stepmother Who Has Been Thanked

I understand that Thanksgiving is big in the US. In a country like mine where colonial mentality is very much alive, I am puzzled at how the commercial industry has managed to insert a celebration to our everydays even if we cannot relate to the historical context of it all. Consumerism at it best, I guess.

I am all for gratitude. It is an anchor value that helps us claim peace and joy in our hearts. Everytime Thanksgiving comes around, I read about “I am thankful for…” and everyone explains how important it is to give thanks.

True, but think about the other end.

How does it feel to be the recipient of such big gratitude? When was the last time you actually cherished a “thank you” uttered to you?

For a stepmother, “thank you” can mean the world. Let me share some moments I remember in my stepmothering realm where gratitude has enabled me to feel the greatest emotions.

In 2011, I came home from work. The family matriarch handed me a note from my son. He attended a recollection in school. Recollections usually encourage (actually, mandates) students to write a letter to their parents as part of the reflection process. The letter, in a yellow pad paper was sealed. I opened it immediately and a blur of tears came to my eyes. From a 12 year-old boy who was as quiet as my son is, the words came sincerely. The gist of it all was, “Thank you Mama for loving Dad and my sisters the way you do.” I never thought he would choose to write to me. Let alone, declare his gratitude for me as I knew he loved his Mom so much.

In 2017, I was able to spend precious moments with the eldest stepdaughter. From there, it was short phone calls and messages in WhatsApp on special occasions. On Valentine’s Day after that year, she sent me a bunch of tulips and a greeting card with her handwritten note that spelled ‘Mama, thank you.’ It was one of the most special thank you I received in life. I always have that greeting card with me, together with my Dad’s final letters to me.

In 2021, my 19-year old daughter sent her message of thanksgiving to me on my birthday via an Instagram post. “You have always taught me to be bold, be silly, be strong, be confident, be independent and intelligent. You taught me to be brave and fierce. To be real. To not worry about fitting into glass slippers, but instead to go out there and smash those glass ceilings. Thank you for being the best.” I do not have the words to describe how I felt when I read this.

Of course, the mom threw a ruckus. But that’s for another post.

Recently, after the youngest daughter healed from a broken heart, after crying on my lap, she sat beside me as I drove her back to her college and simply said, “Thank you Mom.” She is the simple one, not too good with words but the moment was the perfect time to say it because it flowed of sincerity.

Among the many expressions of gratitude from them, these are the moments that standout in my heart. From time to time, I go back to these moments. What does it mean to me?

When things are hard and complicated, it makes me feel that I am worthy.

When I second guess myself, it makes me feel that I must be doing something right.

When I am afraid of the future, it makes me feel I will always have a special place in their hearts.

When I am weak and disheartened, it makes me feel I am loved.

And for a moment, nothing else really matters but love.