The Years Pass

When I was 11, balance and the promise of better days came with the introduction of the man who became my father. My mother, sister and I had been through a tumultuous period of time at the hands of the person I refer to as her first husband. It was undeniably one of the worst times of my life. As an adult, I look back and am awed by the courage it must have taken for my father-to-be to step into such a hurricane. We all have baggage, for certain, but most of us don't have it precede us like a gale force warning. 

First husband was violent and unrelenting in his efforts to punish my mother when her only wrongdoing was having been foolish enough to ever love him. He chose to leave, for dishonorable reasons, yet somehow thought this entitled him to continue terrorizing us all. How anyone, particularly a parent with a young child of three, could see this craziness and willingly become part of it is something I don't know that I would be able to do. 

This man saw something in my mother that made him decide it was worth the headache and drama. No matter how old I get, I will forever be grateful he did. I gained a sister and was able to experience the love, guidance, and safety of a real father. It wasn't all sunshine and roses, there were many bumps and hiccups in the 11+ years he was in our lives. It was through those tough moments, however, that I learned many of the lessons that prepared me for life. 

I was distrusting of people I didn't know, but I gradually developed an openness and acceptance that allowed me to forge relationships with people I might otherwise have never gotten to know. The positive possibilities were more often my first consideration, recognizing that things hard won are often the most rewarding. Relationships now hold more value because they are the result of conscious choice and not happenstance and convenience.

My father was not perfect, but then none of us are. His sternness was frustrating to a teenage girl, but it taught me that sometimes a parent has to do the tough things to make sure their children grow up capable of navigating the world on their own. He was the balance between my mother and me, and his presence in our lives gave my mother the needed boost to recognize and own her power as a person again. More than all the lessons he brought, more than the love and encouragement he extended, this man made it possible for the woman my mother is to emerge at last. After years of being controlled, demeaned and mistreated, she was safe to see her worth and become all that she was supposed to be. 

As a divorced mother of two, I had always hoped to find someone like my father. Someone who would as accepting, loving and supportive of my sons, as my father had been toward my sister and I. It never occurred to me, until recently, that I could also be that person for someone else's children. My sons are grown and there was no step-father as I once thought there would eventually be. I am seeing a man now who has younger children who I may well meet someday in the near future. Should the day come when I have a bigger role in their lives, I'm confident that I can provide the same kind of love, acceptance, and support that my father gave me. Just knowing that makes me even more grateful to have experienced such a wonderful life with my dad, however short it may have been.

It is impossible to avoid the sadness that the loss of this man evokes. The continued gifts of the lessons and love he provided in such a short time are always with me, no matter how many years pass without him. He's never far from my heart and as painful as that may be at times, it's something I would never wish away. My life and who I am wouldn't have come to be had he not braved a life with a woman who had two daughters and an ex-husband that nightmares are made of. Even twenty-two years without him cannot take any of that away.