First off, yes, this is belated. I traveled over the weekend and if anyone understands delays in “working” due to traveling, it would be the two of you.
That said, I’m a lucky girl to be able to say that. “The two of you.” Like, I’m a really lucky girl. I’ve got two wonderful, inspiring men to look up to and refer to as my father, and my stepfather. I’ve got two dads to celebrate each year, and I’m so grateful for that.
Growing up, I’ll admit, I struggled with loyalty. I don’t think this is an entirely unique thing for a child of a blended family, especially one with birth parents in separate states.
Let me pause right here to say that I wouldn’t change how I grew up for anything. Maybe it wasn’t the traditional situation, but it made me exactly who I am today, and it gave me the best relationships with my parents I could ever imagine. Because what it made me realize, eventually (once I pulled out of the angsty teenager phase of life, I suppose), is that families aren’t drawn by lines of loyalty. Families are drawn, so simply, by lines of love.
And I’m lucky enough to love, and be loved, by two of the greatest men – my dad and my stepdad.
If I learned anything by growing up the way I did, it’s that, when it comes to fathers,
two is greater than one.
Granted, that’s simple math. It’s obvious. But it can be messy and confusing when you’re trying to navigate through the inevitable complications of blended families. I won’t lie and say everything was easy, but in the end, everything turned out exactly how it was meant to.
So happy Father’s day, Dad. Thanks for always encouraging my unruly and sometimes unrealistic sense of adventure. Thanks for taking me on a dream trip to Italy and for forging our friendship among the ruins of Rome and the hilltops of Florence. Thanks for loving me so well through all of it, and for loving those I love so wholeheartedly. Thank you for being an example of loving that way — fearlessly, recklessly, incredibly. Thank you even for the hard times, which we got past and grew stronger from. Thank you for the good morning texts and the random ones about popsicles and Giants games. Thank you for never giving up on our relationship, and for that bringing out the best in both of us.
And happy Father’s day, Donald. Thank you for stepping in without a doubt or a question or a moment’s hesitation. Thank you for killing the cockroach that showed up in my washcloth that one time. Thanks for instilling in me a love of trop rock and corned beef & cabbage, and for always indulging your sweet tooth with me. Thank you for every piece of advice — even the ones I’m stubborn about. Thank you for being my constant supporter and for always answering my questions about cars. Thank you for being my mechanic and my mentor and everything in between.
Thank you both for making me who I am today, and molding me into the woman I’m becoming.
I never imagined I could be so lucky.