dad's day

It's Father's Day...the day we celebrate and cherish our fathers, thank them for being our hero's, and if we are lucky, spend time with them. I have two fathers, a biological one, and a real one. My real dad I met when I was 5 or 6 six years old, when he started dating my mom. I was living with my biological one at the time, was a little girl, being raised by a single dad, in the 1970's...It is fairly rare now, back then it was almost unheard of. Looking back on it, I realize how hard it must have been for him, and despite only being in his early thirties, how he did a pretty good job. I have memories of being very lonely and wanting more attention from him, but also of plenty of times when it was just him and I, doing something fun, creative, exciting, or active. I remember him trying to teach me to play tennis, helping him lay a brick patio, accompanying him to work at his office and the hospital. I would have been the age the Pea is now, and as I raise her, and try and balance a full time job and personal life with being a good mommy, I understand how difficult it was for him and how much patience and love he must have had for me. I also remember falling in love with the man who was falling in love with my mom, and feeling very lucky that I could end up with two dads.

When I was eight years old I moved in with my mom and her new husband, the man I now call Dad. I asked if I could...on a whim, one day when I was feeling particularly lonely, I told him I wanted to live with mom and Smash, he agreed, and a few weeks (or months, I am really not sure) later, my father drove me to their house, his old Ford pickup filled with all my furniture, clothes, toys, and books. When we arrived he stopped the truck and before I got out he said "You understand this is permanent right? You can't change your mind, or go back and forth." I hadn't, and while I certainly couldn't have understood the complex legal battle that had taken place for the last 4 years, or all the pain and resentment that had built between my parents, until he said that, I hadn't given it any thought at all. I just knew I missed my mom and my sister and I wanted to feel like a part of a family, but all of a sudden, in that instant, I realized I had made a huge decision, and I wasn't sure if it was the right one. Since that was well before I had my own child, and was able to admit I DIDN'T know everything, I just nodded and said "yeah, I know."

Two years later Mom, Dad, Smash, our two dogs, and I, moved to the other side of the continent, about as far away from our old life as we could get without leaving the country. The relationship with my biological father disintegrated after that and I haven't seen him in 25 years...haven't spoken to him in 17. He doesn't wish me Happy Birthday, I don't wish him Happy Father's Day...he didn't see me graduate high school or college, get married (either time), become a mother, become a single mother, he wasn't there to check out my house when I bought it, he has never said "I'm proud of you". I won't be the one who takes care of him when he is too old to take care of himself, or the one who stands up at his funeral to tell others what a fine man and father he was.

I have learned, both by having, and being, a flawed parent, that good parenting (and some days, when it is all you can manage, good enough parenting) is about choosing, every day, to BE a parent. It isn't enough to just be, to just love, to just live...you must choose to SHOW that you are available, open, loving, caring, committed, and grateful. Some days it is easy, you feel good, stress is low, they are cute and sweet...other days it is work, it feels like your world is collapsing, they are out of control, mean, or bratty. For some it comes easy, those that have great partners, great support systems and families, plenty of money, and ample opportunity...for some it comes naturally, those that had great parents themselves, are in a good place in their life, and are genuinely happy...for the rest of us, it is a constant fumbling, stumbling, and learning, punctuated by moments of brilliance and joy.

My real dad had his share of stumbling and fumbling, but he was there. He made a choice to BE in my life, and in the life of my daughter. He will get a phone call today, a wish for a happy day...not the other guy...and the pain I feel today, the little piece of my heart that breaks because of it, reminds me that in order for my daughter to not feel this way, ever, I need to choose love, choose forgiveness, and choose a life that allows her have both her parents, and any subsequent step parents, in her life, always.

For those of you who can't pick up the phone and call, or spend the day with, your dad, for whatever reason, I'm sorry...for those of you who can, make sure he knows how much you appreciate him. For all you guys out there who have changed countless diapers, run many a bath, kissed a million boo-boos, read a story so many times you have it memorized, who don't consider watching your kids babysitting, who can't imagine your kiddo graduating or getting married without being you being there, who take your grandchildren any chance you get, not just when you are asked, who show strangers pictures and beam with pride: Happy Father's Day!!

To my dad, Poppi: thanks, Happy Father's Day, I love you.

To DH: thanks, Happy Father's Day, I think we are doing a pretty good job.