An Abundance of Fathers

An Abundance of Fathers

When I was a little girl, I loved getting to celebrate my wonderful dad each June when his special day rolled around. I know lots of people say this, but he really was and is the best dad in the world.  He was a sucker for me, was always just a little too easy on me when I probably deserved him to be madder and meaner, and he faithfully provided for my mom and me every day without fail. He didn’t adopt me until he was 40 years old, so he had the benefit of age to soften around the edges and become a bit more mature than the average new dad. He turned 90 this year, and I think we’re all in a bit of disbelief about that fact.  His sense of humor is still on point, the memories he can recall of his younger years are still detailed and more plentiful than my ability to recall things I did just last week, and his love for my mom and me is as strong as ever. He taught me what a dad is supposed to be, and I am better as a result of the selfless, humble model for living that he showed and continues to show me.

In 1992, I married Miles.  In joining his family, I inherited a new father-in-law, Bill.  What a character! Miles’ dad is as busy and personable today as he was the day I met him. His work ethic, desire to help others, and love of all things flying define him.  His life as a pilot kept him away from home for stretches, but the love he has for his wife, 3 kids, and their families was a constant regardless of where an airplane took him. From him, my husband learned loyalty, the value of being productive, and the ability to have a soft interior even when the exterior might look tough. Over our 27 years, he has treated me like a child of his own, and I cherish having him nearby.

In 1998, Miles became a father for the first time. His previous determination to keep life calm and well organized were swept out the door as quickly as our first empty box of diapers. He has learned to beautifully balance relationship building with our daughters, work to provide for our family, and whatever hobby he happens to be focusing on at the moment. He seems to know just when to take the baton from me and run the next leg of the race in our parenting journey. During graduate school, this meant locking me in the guest room for the weekend so I could write papers while he did all of the grocery shopping, entertaining of kids, and making sure they were ready for school on Monday. These days, it means having weekly Friday afternoon phone chats with Mallory to talk through the events of life in college and making sure Avery is applying all of the driving rules he has taught her. Living with 3 women and 2 female cats can’t be easy for him, but we are better because he persists.

I thought 3 father figures in my life was all I’d have or need.

Sometimes life isn’t what you expect.

If you read my first blog, you know that during the past year, I’ve been living a version of what could be a TV documentary on adoption reunions. Last June, through the magic of Ancestry.com, I learned the identity of my birth mom.  This revelation was immediately followed by the discovery that she’d passed away only weeks before her name appeared on my computer screen. Her husband, their three grown children, and their families have now become a very important part of my life. Her husband, Dave, whether he likes it or not, has now been adopted by a 4th child.  During a year of immeasurable grief, he opened his life to me – a part of his late wife’s legacy that he was now able to love and come to know. From the moment we met, the care I felt from him can only be described as open hearted. He wasn’t my dad, and his wife didn’t know me, but we were undeniably family.

A few months after learning the identify of my birth mom, DNA magic happened again, and I was given the name of my birth father.  Within hours, I learned that he, too, had recently passed away. Described as beloved, wise, funny, peaceful, and deeply caring, I am now getting to know his only child, Tom.  If what I’m learning about my new half-brother is any indication of the kind of man my birth father was, I know I would have loved him too.

I didn’t post any pictures on Facebook or Instagram about my dad this year.  I love my dad. In fact, I love all the dads with whom I’m blessed. It’s just that posting pictures of all of them feels like a bit much right now. Frankly, living in my skin feels like a bit much right now.  There is lots to assimilate. Lots to consider. Lots to appreciate. Father’s Day was unique this year. And for the 5 men who are fathers in my life, I could not be more thankful.