Dear Daddy,
You knew about me long before I had eyes I could see you with, ears that could hear your voice and hands that could hold your own. You didn’t know it yet, but we would share the same personality even if we didn’t share the same DNA. You didn’t know it yet, but you would be the most important person in my life (and Mom, too). It takes a special man to accept another woman’s child into their life, and it takes an exceptional man to love and support another woman’s child as his own. You are that exceptional man; you saw the heavy baggage that Mom (proudly) lugged alongside her, and instead of pretending to not see her struggle, you held out your hand and said, ‘Here, let me help you carry that.’
I don’t remember when we first met, but I know you do. I was small and delicate with a head full of hair that covered my Dumbo-ears; hair that would soon fall out and turn into a semi-mullet that you would endlessly tease me about. You were probably scared s***less, but that’s OK, because scared or not, you stayed. You were there for each of my milestones: my first words, the first time I would start walking at Nana and Poppi’s, when I would start teething and later when I would eventually lose those baby teeth; You never missed a moment. With Mom, you played the roles of the Tooth Fairy when I hid my baby teeth in my special pillow, Santa Claus when I was sound asleep—or pretending to be—on Christmas Eve and the Easter Bunny when Easter hopped around in the Spring. But the most important role you ever took on was being my Dad and no one can play this part better than you can.
As a kid, you would bring me to the driving range to hit a few golf balls and later would try to teach me how to play one of your most cherished pastime activities. Bet you didn’t anticipate me driving the golf cart at full speed straight into the bench? After that, I think we decided it was best to stick with hitting golf balls at the driving range since there were minimal benches and not a single golf cart to ram them with. Back in my softball days, we would spend hours playing catch as you threw grounder after pop-up after fastball at me. Some days we would even spend time swinging at those oddly shaped yellow balls at the batting cages down the street. Even less successful than teaching me how to golf was the time when you tried to teach me how to sail. I was miserable and hated every second of every minute spent at sailing practice during the summer—the irony hit us all when I fell in love with a sailor. Really, there were only two instances when I found myself enjoying the activity of sailing just the slightest bit. The first time was that beautiful summer day when you climbed into that tiny Opti with me and helped me sail along the river as Mom took a picture from the shore. The sky was cloudless and the brilliant rays of the sun made the ebbing river glisten. The second instance was the time both you and Mom drove by the yacht club one morning to tell me the wonderful news; I’ll never forget the sheer joy in your smiles and the elation in Mom’s voice when she yelled out the window that you had officially adopted me.
Growing up, you instilled in me some of the most important values that I live by to this day. With your help, I learned what it meant to love unconditionally, show compassion to others and live a life filled with integrity and passion while remaining modest, respectful and true to myself and family. Daddy, you showed me that biology isn’t the sole contributing factor that comprises a family. It’s love that weaves together the intricate ties that forms a family. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if you hadn’t been a part of my life. Thank you for never giving up on me, thank you for raising me as your own, thank you for being my ‘Daddy Paul’.
Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I love you.
