My father passed away in January 2008 at the age of sixty four. I was at work when my brother called me around 4pm, which was odd since he never called me during the day. I picked up and said instinctively, “what’s up, is everything ok?” His response is still burned in my memory, “No, everything’s not ok. Dad’s dead.”
This conversation changed the course of my life.
At the time, I was married to my now ex wife and we were going through the process of adoption. We had been attempting to get pregnant for over a year and were unsuccessful, which I had been told was due to me having a low sperm count. This meant I was unable to have children of my own, a fact that didn’t bother me too much since I wasn’t sure what kind of father I’d be anyway.
Fast forward several years and the decision to be a father had been made for me, since the woman I was remarrying had a 4 year old daughter. Apprehension was mixed with excitement at the prospect of helping to raise a child, hopefully providing a steadying influence and home filled with patience and love. Now nineteen years old, that little girl is thriving as a sophomore in college. Though she’s never been mine by blood, she’s always been mine nonetheless.
Thankfully for me, the doctors were incorrect. Through the grace of God and the miracle of science, my little swimmers somehow found their way to help produce a child I could call my own. At ten years old, she’s the miracle I never thought possible, providing me with a joy I had only previously dreamt about.
Kids have a way of putting everything in perspective. In your twenties, you’re grumbling about a monthly car payment and running out of money to buy beer at the bar. Once you have kids, you’ll find yourself paying more for soccer, summer camps and birthday parties than you ever thought possible. Funny enough, you’ll gladly shell over your hard earned cash to make their lives better.
Being a father provides the last missing piece to a puzzle you didn’t realize needed to be solved. Mornings alone in a studio apartment contemplating life while nursing a hangover have led to this moment. Marriage, children and stability have unlocked a piece of my soul that had been previously untapped.
A series of health issues prompted my father to retire early after thirty plus years working as a claims adjuster, a job that provided food and shelter for our family but one he admittedly hated. A few years ago, I found myself in a similar predicament. Rather than allow a job I also hated to decide my life for me, I made the decision to step away and pursue other passions.
It’s been difficult at times, but it’s allowed me the freedom to be present for my family while being the kind of dad I always wanted to be. As I stood in the ocean with my daughter this past week, holding her hand, I couldn’t help but remember my father doing the same thing with me. The ocean provided my father with peace and happiness and our family beach week was a pleasant memory from a complex childhood in an otherwise dysfunctional household.
It’s been over 18 years old since my dad passed away. In that time, I’ve been divorced, remarried and become a father twice over. Life has continued in the way it always does. I’m just thankful my life has included the ability to be a father, unlocking a piece of myself I didn’t realize had been dormant.
From that difficult phone call eighteen years ago to the gentle sway of the ocean tide today, every twist in the road has been worth it just to hear the word “Dad.”
