To a Father

I am a collector of father figures; no one who knows me well would ask why.

I recently lost my former father-in-law, a man who made fatherhood—parenthood—his primary mission in life. It will always be a wound on my soul that I didn't get to give him a grandchild, just perhaps less raw than it is today.

And yet, it was a wise choice I did not.

The time is past; the people in that family I held so dear for twelve years both passed by and passed on. I have no regrets; I loved him as deeply as any daughter-in-law ever could have.

...but...what now?

My thoughts on parenthood have evolved and diverged over the years. I'm 35, not exactly prime age to have a child—even if I still had two ovaries. If you want to know the journey of the reduction to one, you can read about that here:

Do I dare to look to the future?

To still have hope that I'll be a parent?

Sometimes I think, yes. Other days, on my bad days, I think I should never be a mother, an old sentiment placed in my mind from society's expectations of motherhood and both well and ill-intentioned acquaintances.

When you're bipolar, everyone seems to think they have a right to weigh in on your decision to be a parent.

Beyond my own aspirations of parenthood, do I dare to dream of finding someone to be the future father of my children?

C knows I do dream and often.

My long established friend recently turned more, we're both in the same boat: a little older, wondering if there are any exits left on the highway of singlehood over to becoming a family. I'm grateful he's never shown a shred of concern for my shortcomings; he has more faith in me than I do most days.

C, I don't think I ever told you how much this meant to me:

And there is where I think he'd be the right person with whom to have children. Parenthood involves a lot of faith: in yourself, your relationship, finances—heck, the future of the planet. His unwavering faith in me makes me feel bolder.

Would I like to have our biological children?

Yes, of course. It's a defining moment in any relationship when that happens, and who, among those who want biological children, doesn't at least sometimes daydream of the love and miracle of conception?

But, my heart is open.

If it doesn't happen naturally, I believe another opportunity will present itself, and we will find a way forward through adoption or fostering. As a member of a still oppressed minority in Canada, C might want to look to his people for a way to make a difference in the world. We have the same heritage, though mine is much farther up on the family tree, and, sadly, many of those branches were lost thanks to the Canadian Residential School System.

*

Needless to say, this Father's Day will be a complicated one for me. I'll be mourning a father-in-law, mourning the relationship I thought I'd have children during, and trying my best not to dwell too much on the past and my mistakes. I will, of course, send my living father a note. And I will be thinking of the grandfathers I never knew and the surrogate one who's still here, but barely, and who I wish I could take a walk with one last time.

But now, thanks to C, I'll also be thinking of the future, putting a little faith and hope back into myself and my dreams. Like I said, on my good days, I do think I'd make a good mother, but more so, on any day, I know he'd make an excellent father.

*

 ~This piece is entered into the, 'Dads Are No Joke' contest, on Vocal Media~