Hey Dad,

Remember when we use to play dinosaur when leaving the house? We would walk out of the gate of our apartment complex and any moving car was a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Every time a car would pass we would freeze in our tracks so it wouldn’t fly off the road and eat us. I don’t know how many times we played this, but it was probably hundreds.

Remember when you convinced us that your wedding ring was “the one ring to rule them all”? You would disappear if we sung the intro to “Circle of Life” (how you connected “Lord of the Rings” and “The Lion King,” I have no idea). After singing, each of us had to blow into the ring before you slipped it onto your finger. We never actually saw you disappear.

Remember when I use to play doctor? I would wrap your foot in toilet paper and “operate” on it. Then, to mess with Katie, you would rip off the toilet paper while I wasn’t looking and blame it on her. The funny part was that I knew it was you. I liked messing with her too. Sometimes she got so upset (sorry Katie).

You must be wondering why I am bringing up all the memories?

You know that phrase “blood is thicker than water?” It is often used by blood relatives to get you to do something for them, or as a sign that the family is sticking together. Like, “No you are not going to the movies with Nicole today. It is your mom’s birthday. Blood is thicker than water.”

I don’t think it’s true.

Scientifically, I guess it is. I looked it up since I am not a science-y person. Penn State did a study that shows blood flows differently than water. Blood is thicker and more elastic, like ketchup.

But you’re not my blood. We don’t share an ounce of DNA. We don’t share a last name, but you are my dad.

We “met” when I was just a few months old. I don’t remember, but I am sure you do. I hope you know that I admire you. Becoming the parent of someone else’s child must be hard and scary. I don’t think I could do it at this point in my life, but you did. You took me in. You have called me your own for my entire life.

Anyone can become a parent, but it takes a lot of hard work, dedication, love, patience, mistakes, and even more mistakes to be a dad.

Thank you.

Thank you for raising me. Thank you for selling your Hot Wheels collection to fund my trip to Australia. Thank you for always making sure your kids stomachs were full before you even took a bite. Thank you for giving me three siblings. Thank you for marrying my mom. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for supporting me in all of the activities I have ever done and will do.

Thank you for choosing to be my dad. Happy Father’s Day.

Love,

Your Little Heart Murmur