Pops and the Bio

Dads are No Joke is a tough challenge. Should I tell you the story of the man I call dad, or should I tell you the story of the man who walked away? I have opted to tell you a blend of both, to show my appreciation and understanding for both situations.

My dad has this tough guy exterior that has followed me through my adulthood. Growing up, my dad and I were not very close. There were six of us kids, and my dad regularly worked three to four jobs to keep us all housed, clothed, and fed. He always left the house before any of us were awake, and many nights would get home just as we were all going to bed. He worked during the day as a heavy equipment operator for the local utility company, working his way through an apprenticeship program. By night he was either volunteer firefighting, running ambulance calls, or working at a bowling center. When he was home, he was cranky. I understand now why that was, but as a kid it felt cold and distant. I loved him because that is what kids are supposed to do with their parent.

When I was in high school, it felt at times that we were enemies, me with all the hormones of being a teenage girl, and him being exhausted from working eighty to ninety hours a week. It was not a match made in heaven. However, he was always the guy that was there when I sprained an ankle or was sick. He was the man that would take me to the hospital after working sixteen hours and then turn around and go back and do it all over again after spending the few hours he could have been sleeping in the hospital with me instead. I loved and respected him for this.

After I graduated from high school and began working, there seemed to be a shift in the dynamics. He began calling more frequently, checking in on me more than he did when I was in his house. I saw him cry for the first time in my life at my wedding when we did the father-daughter dance. He would ask my opinion of situations with my younger siblings. It was weird and awesome all at the same time. And then, at the age of thirty-two, I found out that he was not my biological father. This started a very strange journey for the two of us.

He called me shortly after I had found out, and I was still all in my emotions about the entire situation. He was visibly upset on the phone, and he asked, “Are we still ok?”.

“Yeah Pops, we are good.” I answered.

This experience deepened my respect and love for this man, knowing now that he did not have to do any of the things for me that he did. He did not have to take me to the hospital. He did not have to help me with my first car. He did not have to love me. He did not have to do any of the things that a biological dad is supposed to do for their kids. He never treated me any different than my siblings. He is my dad. He has always been my dad.

On the other hand, after I found out about all of this, I reached out to my biological father. I found out that he was a CEO of a biotech company in Canada and has four other children. We talked on the phone for the first time, a day after I found out.

“I love you.” He said to me. I did not reply.

“How can you love me; you don’t even know me?” I thought.

I asked him if he knew about me, and he said he did not. This is contradictory to what my mom had told me, but he was crying on the phone.

“Are these tears real? Did he really not know? Or is this someone whose past has finally caught up with him?” I thought.

We progressed through several months of awkward emails and phone calls before he ghosted me. I was confused and hurt. My life was becoming very interesting, and this guy does not want to know about any of it.

My husband decided to reach out to him to see if he could get a response.

“This is just too hard. I cannot do it.” He told my husband and abruptly hung up.

This was not an easy pill to swallow. Why would someone walk away from one of their kids? For this scenario, I loved this man for giving me life, but I hated this man for being a coward.

Through all of this, I have learned that being a true father has nothing to do with blood. It has nothing to do with biology. It has taught me that loving a child that needs to be loved is what truly matters. That showing up, even when you are exhausted means the most. That being the rock when they are sick is what it is all about. You do not always have to get along if the core of the relationship is true. It is about doing all the things even though they are hard. I have learned from both situations what it truly means to be a father.

And yeah Pops, you are my father, and you always will be.