We took my mom along for a weekend trip recently, and it’s always fun to have her along.  Our parents remind us we are someone’s child too, even when we have our own families to take care of.

I have often thought over the years how many “other parents” I have had. We have people who come in and out of our lives who serve as “pseudoparents,” if you will.

Since I was young, my parents had close family friends who treated us as if we were family. When we were all together, you could count on one of the moms or dads being in charge. We were all comfortable together. I’m sure the adult friends often referred to us as “our kids.” It was like we were a big family.

Neighborhoods had mothers watching over us. You could count on lectures from other moms if you were out of line. I remember my best friend’s mom scooping me up when I had a wipeout on my bike in their driveway. She washed off my knees, gave me a cloth to hold over my wounds, and sent me off home. Sort of tag-team mothering.

I’ve written about my beloved next door neighbors, Toby and Fawn, before. They were a good 15 years older than my own parents, yet not as old as my grandparents.

I loved them as if they were my own family, and Fawn often did motherly and grandmotherly things for my brother and me.  It is still painful to think of them because they passed away when I was still little and they are terribly missed. Still, I have such wonderful memories of feeling loved and cared for at their house.

As I grew up, there were “moms” and “dads” who came and went. My first few employers were a little like parents, teaching and guiding us to learn the ropes of whatever task we had to do. I’m sure many of us were thankful our bosses weren’t our parents, but they did serve their purpose and perhaps filled the role, as I said, somewhat. I am thankful for those “boss” parents who taught me how to do a job, have responsibility, and trusted me to help their business run. It helps one grow up.

When I was a young, wet-behind-the-ears teacher, I moved two hours away. I had my own apartment, a new car, and a job I felt unequipped for.  I could not have survived those first few years without the help of the veteran teachers who gave me advice, watched over me, and didn’t mind silly little questions every day.

Shirley, our secretary at the time and a lady who had the same name as my own mother, was my at-work mom. She was invested in the lives and successes of the young teachers, and I remember her standing beside me to help with my lunch account that first day.  She was on hand for financial advice, cooking advice, and probably advice I didn’t ask for.  I even tagged along Christmas shopping with her once. During my second year, she turned me loose a bit and had an “OK, now you know what to do” attitude toward me. It was good parenting. “Straighten up!” When I’d make silly mistakes, Shirley would shake her head with a slight grin on her face and say “You’re a mess.” I think I may have left the profession if it hadn’t been for those ladies who took care of me.

I was thinking also about Shirley’s sister Carol, another one of my at-school moms.  Carol ran the kitchen and she gave me lots of advice. I always knew she cared for all of us.  Some of the funniest moments I had with her were when I would take my coffee cup to the kitchen to wash it out. Just for meanness, I’d show Carol my cup.

Often, it had been sitting on my desk for a few days, growing floating mold and looking more like a science experiment. With disgust, Carol would jerk the cup out of my hand and sanitize it with soap, water, and probably some type of cleaner.

She’d shake her head and probably thought the same thing her sister Shirley had said. “You’re a mess, Mark Tullis.”

At church, I’ve always been blessed to know good, solid Christian men who were always willing to take me under their wing. We’ve had men like Tommy Hopewell come along with us when we were looking for our first house, giving us fatherly advice and counsel. I’ve had men from my church family show me how to cut down dead trees, and how to do all types of repair work around my house. There have been guys who have helped me with financial issues, car repair and all types of stuff.

To me, it is one of the responsibilities of the men of the church to help one another, and I’m so grateful. I’m hoping I can help others the way I’ve been helped someday.

Sure, we love our own parents and we are indebted to them for being there from the beginning. However, I know how much we can’t be there always, now that my children are getting ready to go off on their own.

In a short five years, my three oldest will be starting careers or college and be out of the house. Hard to believe. So, it’s good to have those folks who fill the void from time to time.

I am blessed to have known many of them.