No Tears on Graduation

Graduation came and went. The weekend was full of people and it was everything I had thought it would be except for one thing; my tears. I did not cry. I did not cry until today.

Our house was so quiet. I spent time putting it back together and cleaning up the remains of your Graduation Party. I spent time looking through the rest of the pictures I had taken of this wonderful time in our lives. I watched the video your father took at the ceremony of you receiving the highest honor you could receive at Graduation. I watched through tears as they called your name and it all finally hit me. As I sat here all alone the emotions flooded in. The remnants are sparse of what happened here this weekend but my heart is just so full.

I started thinking about all you have done. All you have accomplished already in just 18 years and you my son are incredible. There will never be enough words to explain what you mean to me. Everything you have worked so hard for has prepared you to take this next journey. We have prepared you but no one has prepared me. There will never be a day that I want you to leave yet you will leave in just 57 short days and yes I counted them out today. 

I cannot imagine you not being here every day with me, with us. I cannot imagine not looking at those big brown eyes every day and not seeing your face. I cannot imagine falling asleep when you’re not home. I wonder how I will be able to comfort your brother when he is missing you so much because my heart will feel the exact same way. The house will never be the same and our family dynamic of 4 will change so much. We will all miss you so very much. It’s been 18 years of you every day and I really don’t know how to function any other way. I really don’t know how to not feel this way.

The next journey will be amazing. It will also be harder for all of us. As sad as I am; I am also just as happy. I am so happy and excited for you and also a little worried that you won’t need me anymore. Everything I ever done since I was 22 years old has been for you (and then your brother too). Every choice and decision was always made with the best of intentions to help you become who you are today. I hope you will always love and appreciate that about me. I hope when you look back on the last 18 years of your life I’m vivid and abundant in your happiest memories. I hope I was and continue to be the Best Mom Ever and I hope you never stop needing me.

I love you is such an understatement but I will never stop telling you.

The Choices of My Two Fathers

Father’s Day is a tough one. It’s a tough one to explain for me because it doesn’t necessarily flood my head with overwhelming childhood memories. The true meaning of what being a Father means runs deep in my brain. The true meaning of a Father and who your Father truly is isn’t always found in your DNA.

When I was 4 years old my DNA walked out the door. I have vivid memories standing there at our front door screaming and crying as he carried large green garbage bags out and didn’t come back. This is my oldest memory that I can recall on my own and I am guessing it's because it was so traumatic as a 4 year-old little girl.

I am a mother of 2 beautiful boys. As a parent, I have never understood and probably never will comprehend just how someone can walk out on their child. A child they’ve raised and loved for 4 years. I’ve been told over the years that he loved me. I have the pictures to prove that I look nothing like my Mom and every trait I carry is from his side. I have the pictures to prove that he was there as a young loving father of a curly haired little girl who has his brown eyes. I have the pictures and that’s all I have ever really had.

There’s been brief contact a few times. I met him twice. I’ve written him letters and sent Christmas cards several times. I’ve even spoken to his wife. I have never really found closure only more of what feels like rejection. The type of rejection that again as a parent I cannot wrap my head around. Who does this? I’m 41 years old and at this point I repeatedly tell myself to “get over it”. I’ve come to realize that maybe I never will. I know I could get a call one day and be told of his passing, life has proven to me more than once just how short it can be. This is actually one of my biggest fears because then, then it’s over the time will have run out and the answer to my lifelong question of “Why he didn’t want me anymore” will forever go answered.

Now this may just seem like a sad story and maybe it is but luckily for me there was someone who did want me. There was someone who chose to love me. He had a choice and he chose me. He decided to love, provide, guide, discipline, teach and to be my Dad. He didn’t have to but he did. He’s my Dad. He’s been my Dad since I was 5 years old. Looking back I don’t really remember how it exactly came to be but awhile into it, I do remember the first time I ever called him “Dad”. He was getting home from an overnight and I ran out to his truck. He was a truck driver. As he was stepping down from the truck I was standing there looking up waiting to give him a hug saying “Daddy, Daddy”. He didn’t correct me and from that day on he was my “Daddy”. 

He was always there for me and even more so as an adult. He was a far better father as I got older and as I had children.  He changed a lot from the person he was when I was growing up to who he was when he passed and we were actually closer as I became an adult. He was a protector, a problem solver and a bossy giver of all the advice. He didn’t always have all the mushy words of love and praise but he loved me like a father should. He was proud of me. He loved me and the family I created.  I was his girl, his Meathead and the grown woman that he’d still tickle the knees of in the car when we were together. This is a Father. I never referred to him as my step-father. Some people won’t even know he was until they read this. He was my Dad, there was never a question and we didn’t need DNA or the same name to prove it.

Being a Father is a privilege. Being a Father and Being a Father have two totally separate definitions. It comes with great responsibility and it’s not just biological. It comes when someone is present. It comes with someone who is there for his children even if they aren’t “his”.  It comes with LOVE and it's a CHOICE.  

There's truth in the choices you make.