I, like a lot of kids here in South Louisiana, am an oilfield kid. My dad is the lead production operator for an oilfield company, and he has spent half of my life offshore on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico. My family and I live our lives in hitches, marking our calendars every two Thursdays interchangeably: in and out. My dad has missed many birthdays, holidays, weddings, funerals, family functions and school events throughout the years. Countless times he’s had to share our joy, sorrow, excitement and disappointment though only phone calls. It’s something that my family and I have had to accept, but it never makes it any easier.

While missing him for two weeks every hitch he’s out is never fun, it’s a beautiful thing to know that my dad loves my siblings, my mom and me enough to be willing to do whatever it takes to give us the best life possible. I can honestly say that there has never been anything that I have ever needed or wanted that my parents were not able to give to me or my siblings. With my dad being away for two weeks at a time, my mom is left to be pretty much a single parent for those two weeks. When we were younger, she would have to get my brother, two sisters, and I up and ready for school, make us breakfast, lunch and dinner, and shuffle us to and from extracurricular activities all while working as an RN and keeping the house together. With the help of my grandparents and my Aunt Pam, she was always able to manage and make sure the four of us were all taken care of. I have no idea how she managed to do it, but she always kept it together.

Being stuck on a rig in the Gulf isn’t the ideal place to spend the holidays, but it’s what my dad has had to do to help provide for our family for many years. While it hurts to spend these special days without him, it reminds us how lucky we are to have someone that makes being away so hard. There have even been quite a few times when my dad’s hitch started on Christmas day, so my mom, brother, sisters, and I would wake up at 4 a.m. Christmas morning so that he could see us open our presents before he had to leave to catch the helicopter to go back offshore. As much as it hurts to know that he won’t be home for Christmas or Thanksgiving this year, I know it has to hurt him even more.

There is a lot that my dad has to miss because he is offshore, but it makes the things he is home for that much better. There are no empty spaces in our annual "awkward family photos (as seen below)," the presents marked “Dad” aren’t left alone under the tree after we are done opening presents on Christmas Day, the Thanksgiving turkey and Christmas ham taste a little better and Father’s Day isn’t just another reminder that he isn’t home. The “I love you’s” are always better face to face than saying it over the phone when he calls every night at 10. Having him ask about my day when I get home, as opposed to through a phone line, always makes my day better. Every day that he is home, holiday or not, is a blessing in itself.

So here’s to my dad, and the dads like mine who spends half the year away from their families to make sure that they have everything they’ve ever needed or wanted. Here’s to my mom, and the moms like mine who do the work of two parents on their own half the time and always kept it together. Here’s to my grandparents and my Aunt Pam, and family members like them who help the oilfield wives every way that they can. Here’s to the kids like me, who count down the days until they get to hug their dads again. For us, life is great, but sometimes… it’s a hitch.