So today is Father's Day. We celebrate Mother's Day with a lot of glitz and glamour but Father's Day is a much quieter holiday. Facebook blew up with all of my friends wishing their husbands and fathers a Happy Father's Day. Every time I read one, my heart twinges a little. Even though I went into adoption as a single mother, I do secretly worry about if I did the right thing. I see the happy photos of the family unit: mom, dad, and kids. I tell myself that all families are different, and that I don't need a husband to raise my son. Then someone posted on another Facebook site the statistics of children who are raised without a dad. It wasn't pretty. I keep telling myself that those numbers won't apply to E, that our circumstances are different. And then I remember the stories of my friends, who have dead beat fathers or ugly splits between them and their significant others. I carefully planned E's adoption and I watch him bloom daily into this beautiful, active toddler who is secure in his family's love. Fathers are wonderful and one day, I would love to get married, but for now he will have his uncles to be the dad in his life.
For 30 years I had a wonderful father. He was a sports guy and a PE teacher at my local high school. For such a guy's guy, he had such a soft spot for his daughters. My sister and I were also adopted as infants through international adoption. My dad and mom requested daughters through their agency and when I arrived, my grandmother told me he brought me over to her and said "Isn't she beautiful?".
Dad died exactly 3 weeks after E was born. It also happened to be my birthday. It was sudden and unexpected. It's been two years and my heart still aches with missing him. I've finally gotten to the place where I don't cry every time I think about him. He did meet E and held him twice. I also have one picture of the three of us together, so I can show E and tell him how much he would have loved his Poppy. I remember holding E and sitting to talk to my dad. I asked him if he thought I'd be a good mother and he said, "Yes, because you love him."
My dad was my best friend. I could tell him anything and we talked several times a day. Now I pick up the phone to call before I remember that he's not there to answer and there are no phone lines to heaven. My mom is wonderful, but it's different. That father/daughter connection isn't there anymore.
So I look at E and know that I am mom and dad to this amazing child. I will raise him with the values instilled by my parents and know that my dad is always with me, if only in spirit. Happy Father's Day in heaven, daddy. I miss you.