Let's take a walk down memory lane, shall we.

I'm 4-years old and mommy and daddy are no longer together. Mom has moved us out and we're living away from dad, but still seeing him every other weekend. Fast forward a little bit and this man Scott comes into my mom's life. I didn't seem to think anything of it, honestly. Scott was fun. Sure he had tattoos and a funny looking haircut, but he made me laugh and he was always nice. Mom and dad were definitely not getting back together because mom liked this guy with a funny looking haircut.

Well, this guy with a funny looking haircut and tattoos would soon become my step father. I remember their country wedding. My mom's short white dress with tassels and her white cowgirl boots. My brother and I both standing up to support them in our dark wash jeans, a light jean button up, and brown boots. Scott in his dark jeans and white button up. My mom's family and friends and Scott's family and friends all sitting and watching them profess their love for one another. I had another father, not one to replace my father but to also be there to guide me.

Sure, dad dated around awhile but he soon met a woman he would one day marry. I remember one of their dates, only because I was there. I had just met Theresa and her son Dustin. My brother was there and we went to Brown County and walked up the tower and played putt-putt. Well, by 8th grade they too would stand up and profess their love for one another. I remember that day in the park. My brother, stepbrother, and myself standing on the outer edge of the shelter house as my dad and Theresa professed their love for one another and showed their love to us all. It was small and intimate but everything they could both want. I had another mother, not one to replace my mother but to also be there to guide me.

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Maybe I'm crazy or just different. My parents' divorce was a blessing. I was young, so of course I don't remember a lot of it. I never remember my parents fighting. I mean never. Although, they say they did. I know they weren't happy, and that is okay because they tried.

I've grown up in a world where I've constantly been told by people or heard that divorce is bad. It's just not something people do, and they are just giving up. Maybe they did give up eventually, but I know they tried. There was a time they were back together, but for one reason. The kids. My brother and me. Guess what? They still weren't happy.

My parents never made me feel as if it were my fault or my brothers. They always did their absolute best to ensure that we still had each of them. I never felt like I was being pulled in either direction because I knew they were both still there no matter what. Whether it was going to my basketball game, my brother's, my choir concert, or any other school function they were right there. They were right there sitting beside each other cheering their kids on.

So, I thank my parents for their divorce because they showed me that it is okay to follow your heart. They taught me what true love is, and sometimes love means you have to let go. My parents taught me that sometimes it's okay to give up. I've learned to take chances. I've learned to love unconditionally.

Most of all my parents' divorce gave me a stepmother and a stepfather that love me like I was their own. They have guided me through out my life. They've been disappointed in me but they have also celebrated my accomplishments. They have been there every step of the way and I wouldn't be the person I am today without those two wonderful people.

Let's make that four wonderful people. That is what I thank my parents the most for; giving me two more wonderful parents to be by my side and love me as their own.

Thanks Mom and Scott. I love you.

Thanks Dad and Theresa. I love you.