Current mood: happy
I was -going- to start this blog, talking about a really cool quote I came across on one of my groups today:
Everyone can tell right from wrong.
If you have to think about whether something is right or wrong, it is probably wrong and you are trying to justify doing it anyway.
It was a quote from one of their grandfathers. But then, instead of starting said blog, I kept reading my various things, including a blog from Kate about Care Bears and her father.
And I got distracted (; Because she's right-- tomorrow is Father's Day.
My sister and I are probably some of the few people who grew up with 3 dads. There's our biological father-- artistic, creative, a great musician... who made some foolish choices that led to divorce. He's never really been in our lives--but my mother always made sure he was never really -out- of it either. Pretty much, our biological father has sent us a card at Christmas, letting us know he's thinking about us and what's been going on in his life, and some wonderful chocolate macadameia nuts from Hawaii. Since we've grown up and left home, I'd say we're even closer to our Hawaiian family than we were as kids. Even though I haven't seen him since I was 3, I know what he looks like, I try to keep up with my half sisters and I know he is married to a wonderful, caring, special woman, who cares for my sister and I even though she has never met us.
Then there's my mother's second husband. I'm not one for dwelling, so I'll just sum it up as "He set the example by which I decided I would NEVER be." Gave me some serious head game issues that I didn't work through completely until I was in my early twenties. And my mother was -finally- allowed to divorce him when I was 12. I say it that way because she'd been trying to divorce him since I was 8, but the ARMY (whom she worked for) was going through some serious 'family value' issues, and wouldn't allow her to divorce him. It took the German police deporting him back state-side before she could. Now, that all said, his parents are some of my all time favorite grandparents. I was sincerely heartbroken when my Grandpa George passed away. And I still keep in touch with my Grandma Carole pretty regularly. And we still keep in touch with him. We didn't. Not for about a decade after the divorce. But he got himself cleaned up, is married to a good woman who won't put up with his antics....and it was really hard to not stay in touch, when we've always stayed in touch with his parents. The life of his youth is telling on him now. He doesn't look near the same person. He was an attractive man in his 20s/30s--at least on the outside. He now much resembles Jim Carey's character from Lemony Snickett. Seriously.
So anyway, then there's my Dad. My Mom's third husband, whom she married when I was 12. There are a lot of things I'm thankful to my Dad for-- he got me out of the shell 2 had stuffed me into. He got me talking (Yup-- Dad is the one everyone who knows me can blame for that one (LOL)). And he got me being much more social. Mostly, I think he got me back on the road to finding me-- it just took almost a decade for me to get there. And for all of that, I want to say Thank You.
There are two other Dads in my life. Regularly. My husband's father. For most of the last two years, he's lived in our backyard. He's now in a home of his own not five minutes away. And I don't know as we could have done these last two years without him. He gave us this opportunity when we desperately needed it. He's watched Grandmother and the kids so we (no, so -I-) could pursue my interests, like the SCA. He has been an example of what family really should be. And it's humbling because I'm the 'in-law' and he's never treated me like one....someone once asked me if we had any of those 'in-law' problems, and I quickly and sincerely answered-- Mark might, but I got lucky. I don't have in-laws save in name. I got another set of parents. And to them, I also say Thank You.
And then there's the Father who became one the same day I became a Mother. He's been there for the arrival of each and every one of our kids-- from the first two furry ones (Spot and Peeve, our kittens), to the delivery of both of our human ones-- which I don't know if I could have gotten through WITHOUT him being there! to the selection of our puppies.
I still remember the first time Spot and Peeve were in my apartment-- they were so small, they fit in the palm of my hands. And Spot gave Mark a scar on his lip--she was trying to climb up the bed and she didn't distinguish between his face and the bedding with her needle sharp kitten claws.
And the first time we saw our oldest (who's now 6!) on the ultrasound. He was no bigger than my thumb, and he was dancing! And the wonder and awe in Mark's face as he smiled at me and told me he would always remember that. (:
To the day he held my hand as we all found out our youngest was going to be a boy (who's fast approaching 3!).
Some of my fondest memories will never be on film-- they're too quick and fleeting to capture, save in the minds eye: Mark sitting on the couch with both of our boys curled up around him while they watch television.
Sharing this tiny chair with our youngest and playing x-box with our oldest.
The laughter and ruckass associated with waking up or getting ready to sleep (:
SCA events and camping-- and how it's so cold, when I get back to the tent, all three of them are in our sleeping bag snuggled and out like lights.
Playing with the dogs.
Practicing baseball or learning how to golf.
...so many different mental images. And all of them bring a smile to my face because I know Mark is a good Daddy. He loves our boys, and they love him back (: And for that, I say Thank You!
And Happy Father's Day!