I didn’t cut him out of my life. He cut me out of his. His name isn’t even on my birth certificate.
Do I miss him? No.
Do I wonder about him? Sometimes. I wonder how he could have left a pregnant 19-year-old girl strung out on drugs by herself to take care of herself and her child.
She didn’t end up keeping me.
On the court day of legalizing my adoption, she didn’t even show up.
Here I am, sixteen years later, a few months shy from graduating, with two loving parents and an unpredictable brother.
My legal dad is more than just “legal.” He raised me.
He taught me how to tie my shoes. When I was about five years old, my brother got to play outside while my dad took me aside to teach me how to tie my shoes. It took at least 45 minutes. He could have spent that time in a meeting, or writing his dissertation. But he chose to spend it with me and teach me a valuable skill that has served me well since.
He built my brother and me a teepee in our old backyard. When I was six or so, my dad cut down a few dying aspen trees in our back yard. Instead of letting the trunks go to waste, he went out and bought a cloth to cover them and made my brother and me a teepee. So many of my summer days were spent imagining life away in that little teepee.
He would send post cards when he traveled for work. Even though he would usually be back home before the post card arrived, it was always super comforting to see him tending to his fatherly duties while still being responsible for his work. I still have all of the post cards he sent to this day.
He’s the one teaching me to drive. I’m finally at the age where I am able to drive, and my dad has taken up the responsibility of teaching me. My dad spends more time in meetings every day than I do on my phone and computer combined, yet he still makes time for me to learn the skills I need to be successful as an adult.
My dad calls me out on my bullshit. I know so many kids whose parents don’t hold them accountable for what they say and do, which later bites them in the butt when they are independent and on their own. Sometimes I feel like I get called out for things that are unfair or minor, but at the end of the day, I am reminded that he calls me out because he wants me to be successful on my own. And he wants the best for me because he loves me.
He has been there for me. Through it all, regardless of the hundreds of times I have tried to push him away.
There was a time when my dad lived halfway across the country for work. I’m crying as I write this, because I remember how hard it was without him. We would fight when he came home every few months, but when he would leave again, the pit inside of me would open up again. His presence has always been a comfort, even when things have been tense.
I can’t wait for him to watch me graduate. For him to walk me down the aisle when I get married. For him to play with my future children and take them camping like he did my brother and me.
I was given a second chance, and I would be a fool to write him out.
