Father's Day...

Father's Day is always interesting for me, and this year is no exception. Since having my girls, I wanted nothing more than for them to have a "good" father. A father who could balance me and provide them with wisdom, guidance, and love. A father that would demonstrate to them exactly the type of man they should seek as their husband. As is typical for me, I was looking for a being that could be placed in a box. "A" father. Singular, not plural. I now realize that (oh God forgive me for quoting a Clinton) it does truly take a village to raise a child and although I was seeking a singular being, they were receiving fatherly influences from many men (and women) in their lives.

Don't get me wrong, I've always wanted at least one of my girls to be a daddy's girl, and through no fault of their own, that just never happened. But they gave it 110% - they played boy sports, they liked boy music, etc. I didn't raise prissy girls! Unfortunately, my girls have had their share of paternal abandonment. However, as I look back over their childhood, although they may never have had one stable father in their lives, they have been blessed with stable relationships with wonderful men from whom they can learn lessons and be thankful for their love.

I would be remiss if my top accolade didn't go to my husband. Here is a young man who stepped up in a way that is almost unheard of in this day and age. Not only did he take on a wife and three children, those children were teen-age girls. Seriously, could there be anything worse? But in a short time, he was able to show them respect, love, discipline, morals, Godliness, and so much more. I will be forever grateful for the role he has played and is playing in their lives. And I pray that when they settle down, they will use him as a role-model and not settle for anything less.

The next award would have to go to my step-father who, although he is not blood, he has been my father since I was six. He was the one who made sure I had clothes on my back, food on the table, and showed me absolutely no mercy after staying out all night partying. He taught me to work hard, to manage my finances well, and to appreciate everything I had. He taught me to take pride in myself and my contributions, and to never, ever rest.

I had an incredible conversation with him tonight, one that I will remember for many years to come. I thanked him for being my "dad" and I told him that blood didn't matter. I thanked him for the years he was there when most people would have turned and run. He opened up to me...expressing his sadness and regret. Wishing that he had been more disciplinary with my brother and less mean to me. He wished he had been one of those top executives with a big paycheck. I told him "no", they are the ones who miss out on the most. I was grateful for who he was and what he gave to us.

Think about this.... I am almost 40. It's been 22 years since his youngest child left, and yet, he still struggles with these thoughts. That struck me as so sad.... and so I did what I could. I thanked him, again. I told him I loved him. I recounted all of the things that I believed he added to my life. I told him of my recent discussion with Devin in which I graded myself on each of the girls. Devin, so wisely, told me that the grades were not mine, rather they were the girls. I raised them all the same and they had the option and opportunity to do with the circumstances what they would like. There was only so much I could control. With my step-dad, there was only so much he could control.

I remember so clearly one act of kindness from him that will be etched in my mind forever. It was the day I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified, and guilt-ridden, and emotionally distraught. My mother would not speak to me. My boyfriend broke up with me. My friends didn't know what to say. And yet my step-dad sat beside me and said "what would you like to do, sweetie". He showed me a kindness and empathy in that moment that no one else around me gave to me. And for that, I will forever be grateful.

And then there's my Dad, my biological father. He's been a point-in-time, a reference, a series of singular events that in reality don't truly add up to fatherhood. But I don't blame him. I love him. Looking back, I think perhaps he did the best he could under the circumstances. There are things that I treasure about him - I love his love for the outdoors, his ability to grow the most amazing gardens, his work ethic that truly defines him. I love his no nonsense approach to life and his keen sensibility that was somehow lacking in the other half of my gene pool. I look at him, all 5' of him, and know that there are so many of my genetic attributes that I can attribute to him: my staggering height, my laugh lines around my eyes, my solid "sturdy Maine stock" legs, and my absolute love for the outdoors, for the water, for everything wild.

I would not trade those things for a million dollars. He created the foundation and my step-father built the walls. I, and I alone, was responsible for the finishing touches, the decorations.

I got a message from my long-lost sister-in-law today, wishing me Happy Father's Day. Acknowledging the fact that as single moms, we play both roles. I can't say I won't always feel bad and feel guilty that I didn't raise the girls with a Dad, yet at the same time I can honestly say I did the best I could and I pray they take, and appreciate, the best from those three strong men mentioned above. Because I know I will always appreciate it....