I was so fortunate to have some truly special ladies in my life—my “other moms.”
Oleta was my mom’s best friend. After losing her husband, she ran a daycare to pay the bills. She was the one I stayed with when my parents were out of town (my older brother usually stayed with friends). When I was bored during summer breaks, I was sent to help her with the kids. Oleta was the home I ran to on the day my brother was in the accident that took his life. She’s been in heaven for years now, and her estate was actually the first probate I handled. I’ll always be grateful for her steady presence in my life.
Jean Thornton lived across the street. She and my mom were also best friends. Jean made the best strawberry shortcake and always had something delicious baking. She was the neighbor I ran to when my mom got sick, and she was the one who drove us to UCLA for my eye doctor appointments because my mom wouldn’t drive on freeways. I’m grateful for all the love she shared and for the way she and my mom supported each other and their families so generously.
Jean Murdoch, whose husband worked with my dad, opened her home to our family for countless pool parties, and her daughters taught me to swim. When my dad became ill and one of her daughters was going through a difficult divorce, I helped her with the grandkids. Those summers of babysitting, watching soap operas, keeping an eye on the pool, and eating the best tacos I’ll ever have are memories I treasure. I remember the Christmas after my brother died—staying overnight to help play Santa—and the holidays she welcomed us as family. My gratitude for her love is beyond words.
So today, to all the “other moms” in my life: thank you.
