Lose a Dad, Gain a Dad. Story of my life.

My parents divorced when I was four.  In a very stereotypically nasty fashion.  My mom remarried when I was 7 to a nice guy.  He wasn’t a bad step-father.  He gave me a couple of brothers.  And since I wasn’t able to see my “real” father much growing up, I really considered my step-dad to be my father.  I called him daddy.  I called my birth father “Billy”.

 

But then I moved away on my own.  A rather dramatic story that I’ve mentioned before. And my relationship with the man that had raised me was severed.  I don’t blame him for not reaching out, or building bridges.  I fully understand the situation he was in, and it wasn’t a pretty one.  He had his own sons to think about.

 

But you know what they say about how God opens a window when someone farts on their life.  Or something like that.

 

The day I moved out of my mother’s home, I called my birth dad.  Honestly, I had always been fond of the guy, just unable to have a relationship with him because of hostilities between my folks.

 

That was more than 11 years ago now, and we’ve more than made up for what we lost in my childhood.  He’s visited us almost everywhere we’ve ever lived, and we even invaded his house for 8 months when we first moved back home after separating from the Air Force.  Most weekends you can find him at our house, reading books to Three Year Old, doing all of my handy man work, and sleeping on our couch.

 

Truth is, we entered into his life at the exact time that he needed it.   Years of working hard and drinking hard ravaged his health, leaving him with the black and white choice of alcohol or life.  His grandbabies became a reason to care, a reason to stay the straight and narrow.  Unfortunately, the past can’t be erased.  His health remains fragile and I wonder about it a lot.  So I truly appreciate and never take for granted each day we get with him.  Cause you just never know how many weekends are left in this life.

 

 

Life’s a funny thing.  You never know what odd twists and turns it may hold.  Or how relationships might be redeemed.  Or broken.

 

I don’t call my dad “Billy” anymore.  And I don’t call my step-dad “Daddy”.

 

-Jessica

Comments

  1. Did you really say the f word in your post?!?!

    I’ve got a dad and a step-dad….growing up my dad was a great father, really. It just sucks that he left my mom after 24 years of marriage and right when I was about to embark on the marriage journey. We’ve grown apart over the past 15 years and our relationship is quite lame. I still call him Dad.

    My step-dad, on the other hand, has stepped up and acted like a father to me the past 14 years. He would love for me to call him Dad, but I call him Keith.

    Weird.
    Jill Foley recently posted..Correspondence Kit WinnersMy Profile

  2. What a beautiful post, my friend. Even with the “F” word!

    That picture is a classic!
    Michelle ~ Blogging from the Boonies recently posted..Sunday PraiseMy Profile

  3. How am I missing the F word?
    Amy recently posted..Father’s Day like Every DayMy Profile

  4. I can understand what you mean as I lost my dad at a young age and no matter how many times my mother re-married it was never the same. Some people are fortunate and get to have a great step-father that cares for them like their own. I was not one of those people as I only had a heart for my dad since I lost him so young.

    I believe that God brings people in your life to show you what you need to see and then takes them away and puts another person in your life to show you the right person. You are blessed to have your father back in your life and I know that you will treasure it forever!

  5. My parents divorced when I was 15 …..my dad struggled to “relate” to me – his middle girl child. When I was 25, our relationship broke. The next time I saw him he was in the hospital and I was 40 years old. He never met my husband, didn’t come to my wedding and never met his only grandchild, my daughter. At 40 I wasn’t saved but I am now. I thank God my dad didn’t die before I was able to meet up with him in the hospital so we could see one another again. He died 2 months later.

    • I’m so sorry that your relationship with you dad was broken, Kim. Glad that your relationship with your Earthy and Heavenly Father were both redeemed!

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