Like Only Fathers Know

When I think of the best times, I think of the two of us at some breakfast hole in the wall place that you somehow knew every waitresses name in.

I think about the conversations we had. All of them fatherly and full of advice, and I sensed the dynamic change as I grew up. I got to relate to you as an adult. I had the privilege to see your nerves melt away when you realized I had built a life for myself when I know how much you worried. As fathers do.

I want to express my gratitude for your presence in our lives, one of only very few constants we experienced growing up. We needed the structure and support, and you took on the role, which for a family as large and broken as we were, was not an easy task.

That took a level of sacrifice only father’s know, to the extent I’m not sure I could wrap my head around.

And I know that you sometimes struggled with feeling like an outsider, as probably most step parents can relate to. In those moments, I believe we did everything to reassure you we love you and you’re wanted. I hope we could quiet those fears so you felt just how much we cared and valued you.

Fathers have a way of seeming like they’re invincible. You were always outside working on a project, you were always strong and active even when your peers started to slow.

It’s an odd feeling to be sitting here at 31 when for the last 20 years you were here too. I’m not sure what to do or think or even how begin to grieve. So, as my dear friend Luis suggested, I will write about it.

There’s not many men I know who would’ve done what you did when you joined our family and went on to help raise 6 kids that weren’t your own. Ask anyone and you never used the word “step”, we were always named sons and daughters with that same proud smile.

I want to thank you for showing up, for being present and for always caring for us after our biological fathers would not or could not do so. You could’ve walked away and no one would’ve held that against you. And you chose not to.

Whether you were living in the same home with us, or keeping an eye out from afar, you always wanted us to be okay no matter what.

There were so many ways you showed you cared, whether it was picking us up for weekends at your place, paying a bill so our household didn’t fall behind, driving us all around with the music blaring and T-Tops off to “Amazed by You” or “Proud Mary”.

You were all in, and even through turbulent times, you weren’t going anywhere. That will never be forgotten.

It means so much to me that you shared how proud you were of me and it wasn’t just spoken out of obligation, you truly meant it. I don’t know if you realized, but you had something to do with that. Your impact surely made a difference. And hearing you say that with genuine conviction meant everything to me.

Even though I joked you seemed to like James better, I was so relieved you two formed your own bond. I wanted that for the both of you, I was pleasantly surprised watching your relationship develop and having your approval for our relationship meant a lot to both of us.

Even though I do talk to my Dad now, it doesn’t diminish what we shared. I can look back and see our Father/Daughter bond was real and impacted both of our lives. I know you weren’t sure how to feel when I told you I did contact him, I know you were wondering about your place again. I recognize it was probably not a great feeling.

I can tell you, by the time I did begin a relationship with my Dad, you were already in that role for 15 years. There is no replacement possible and no bond that would stand to alter ours.

Sure, there were times I struggled as many teens do to connect with you. Moments we both weren’t proud of, yet we were able to get through the harder times. I’m so happy that I can look back and see just how far we came.

There were so many firsts you were there for. You were the reason I got my first job at the flea market. You helped me get my first car and show me how to use it. One Christmas, you even brought a kitten home as a gift.

You had a knack for creating fun memories, whether it was riding 4 wheelers or showing off your love of racing at the Speedway. It was so fun to see you in your element. Like when we joined the line up for Christmas Parades and watching you golf cart around at the Speedway, always surrounded by friends everywhere you went. Hearing the stories of you growing up in the same areas and schools we did, stories of a different day and age, or times spent burning rubber and trophies won.

You will forever be in the club of those social butterflies that could go everywhere and find someone he knows. I’m so happy so many got to know you, and that you let your heart be open to it. Especially when I know how sad you felt to deal with the added losses and grief that age brings. Including those that stemmed from your own health challenges.

I can confidently say this, you are the father in my life. You lived a great life despite hardship. You made so many friends along the way that are feeling the loss of you but who will soon be able to smile at memories instead of cry.

You were there for many birthdays, holidays, milestones, achievements and losses. Even though, I’m sad you aren’t here to see what’s to come, I know you’re looking down with a smile.

This will be the hardest Father’s Day we will ever face. In our grief and contending with what our dynamic will be without you on this Earth, I need to remind you of these 3 things the most.

You mattered, you’ve made an impact and we love you.

I will carry your voice, lessons learned, and our most precious memories along with me on this journey until I join you. And in every breakfast cafe I find myself in, I’ll be picturing you there sipping your coffee, content and happy.