The beginning of my life was a rough patch. I had an amazing mother who was married to a man who had amazing potential. He gave me life and he gave me many of my talents and especially my drive. He did not give me his worldliness, addictions or abusive behaviors. He was not there for me as a child, nor will he ever be. He gave me up for adoption to my step-dad when I was 12, and I have not laid eyes on him since.
Of course I could write a book on that paragraph alone. Fortunately our relationship is a large part of what defines who I am and the choices I make. I chose to marry a man who had a lot in common with my “bio-Dad”, but he is surpassing his own potential with every breath he takes.
The beautiful thing about the man I married is that he has mystery about him. I knew him well as my husband, but when he became a father, it was like I met him all over again. When we were courting, I did not dwell much on whether or not he would be a good father. I knew that he would provide, that he was supportive, smart, righteous and most importantly loyal, and that is all I needed to know. I was high maintenance enough; I figured a child couldn’t be any worse.
Then came Fatherhood. It was March 7th, 2002 and he saw our first daughter and had a look on his face unlike any I had seen him express. When she was 5 weeks old he became her primary caregiver. He took her to class with him everyday (he was getting his MBA at the time), and took her to parties, and wore her in the bjorn, and couldn’t be prouder. Still today he gives baths, changes diapers, makes the bottles (or cocktails as we call them now), dresses them, does their hair, the list goes on. I never had to talk down to him or teach him how to do something or BEG him to help. He has ALWAYS been there as a co-parent.
The most special part of all this is to see the love that he gives reciprocated in our daughters. To see the looks on their faces when they look at each other, I am all of a sudden invisible, a fly on the wall, an intruder on their “thing”. Though I love my Dad (the fantabulous man who adopted me) with all my heart, I never had that bond from the very beginning of existence. I on the other hand, had to work on it, and was painfully aware of each step: “Doug, Dad, Daddy, touch, hug, air kiss, kiss, real hug, I love you Dad.” For Pukey & Poopy, loving their Dad and expressing that is more natural then breathing. When he walks through that door it is like the circus has come to town: “DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!” I love it. Happy Father’s Day Honey, to the most wonderful Dad I have and will ever known.