Aunt Power - Barbara Halpern
By Barbara Goodman
An aunt fills in for mother.
My other mother is my mother's older sister, Barbara. I am named after her in her honor. My aunt has no children of her own and treated me as if I were hers. I call my aunt "Bobbie". I didn't know other kids did not have a "Bobbie"! She always told me she had aunt power and I believed it. In fact, one time I fell off a swing and she ran and picked me up, after breast cancer surgery when she was not allowed to lift anything. But that's Bobbie's aunt power. As a child, she showered me with love and new outfits and showed me the best of New York City for a little girl. One would call it "spoiled." But, there were times that my mother drank too much and ended up on the floor. Who did I call? Bobbie. She would rush over to my home and comfort me. She always provided a clean, stable home for me, where she kept a fold up bed for me to stay. My mother died from cancer when I was 18. Since then, she has filled the maternal role in my life. You see, my mother raised me, but my aunt refined me. She brought me into adulthood with her wisdom and dedication to her promise to my mother to care for me. Since then, she uprooted her life and moved cross country to support me with my career dreams. The one thing I have learned is Bobbie is always right, even though I dont want her to be. Over the years we have been mistaken in public as mother and daughter. We would quickly correct them. No, no, I'm not her mother, I'm her aunt she would say. But now, we dont say anything. We let them acknowledge what they see between us - that she is indeed my "other mother".
"Barbara Terry for Other Mother Award"
By Dawari Zuokemefa
An aunt cares for her nephew.
"Why my Aunt is my Other Mother."
"My Other Mother Helen Cannaday Saulny"
By Titiola Williams-Davies
A college administrator mothers a foreign student.
She is My Other Mother and My children's Other Mother - Patra Swope
By Cema Gates
An aunt makes a life-long committment to her sister's child.
My Other Mother is my aunt and this is why she is like a mother to me. When I was three years old my parents committed suicide and she took me in as her own. She had been living in Japan with her husband and they had a toddler, who is my little brother. She flew to the US and got me and took me home and raised me as if I was her own child. There were other family members who would have taken me, but she wanted me. We moved to Texas when I was five years old and I had a great childhood, I did all the normal things like tap dancing, gymnastics, and soccer. She did so much for me and made all of my birthdays and other holidays special. She kept my parents alive by telling me stories, showing me pictures and taking me to see the places they had lived. I knew I was different than my friends and their families, but I felt normal because of the way she raised me.
Eventually I started my own family, unfortunately my marriage failed and I found myself without a degree, a career or any job experience and two young children. She and my step-dad took us into their home. They were retired and she went back to work to help support me as I earned my Bachelors Degree in Nursing. Nursing school is challenging and time consuming and she helped out with my boys while I was studying or doing clinicals. She helped them with their homework, took them to their sports practices, stayed home with them when they were sick. She basically did everything I would have done had I not been in school, she became their Other Mother too!
I could not have picked myself up after my divorce and gone to school if it weren't for her love and support. I will be graduating next week with honors and I owe it all to my mom. My children will have a bright future full of opportunities because of her love and support.
The Sympathy of Christ - Beverly Poirrier
By Dalekaren Edwards
A Sunday school teacher becomes a spiritual anchor.
My other mother was a lady that taught our Sunday school class with candor and grace. She did not gloss over her sin nature but clearly had been changed by the work of the Holy Spirit. I recognized in her the mentor I was hungry for and untimately the "mother" that I needed to heal a very traumatic childhood. I approached her and asked her to mentor me. As our friendship deepened we became aware of my tremendous need for a "spiritual mother" to teach me the truth about God and life and me. She knew the difference between life--which is unfair and can be brutal-- and GOD who is always good and gracious. Her love was unconditional and allowed me to mother my own children with much more grace than I could have availed on my own. One of the most dramatic and profound occurances came when I confided in her that I had been raped in college. I had a gaping wound from the trauma that was exacerbated by my birth mother's complete lack of interest. (In retrospect I believe her own background made her incapable of being sympathetic as she did not know the wonderful healing love of God for herself or me.) My mentor became a mother to me the night I confessed the act that had been perpetrated against me. Her words were the healing balm I had needed all those years. She simply held me in her arms and said "I am so sorry." God's grace washed over me and I have never felt a drop of pain since. I did not need a treatise on God or a sweet sermon on forgiveness. I simply needed her simple sorrow for my suffering--the same sorrow that my Savior felt and communicated to me through my other mother, Beverly Poirrier.