The Pyrenees---Southern France

The Pyrenees---Southern France

Sunday, June 19, 2011

A Day for Fathers

           I never got to know my biological father. Not his name, not his character traits, nothing about his physical appearance.

       According to the story my birth mother told the adoption agency, his family came from Greece. Since I am white as notebook paper (with the blue lines, since my leg veins have become more prominent these days) and my hair color doesn't look like it's Greek, I wonder if "came from Greece" meant they recently returned from a mediterranean cruise.

       On the other hand, perhaps she was spinning a story to hide the shame that this was the second time she had gotten pregnant and had to give up a baby. I cannot imagine the dilemma she was in.

This is my birth mother with the 3rd daughter she
gave birth to. She managed to hang onto this girl for a while...

      Luckily, I grew up with a great mom and dad. Love and affection and attention showered down on me for the last five decades. While he was alive, I know that my dad's life was enriched because he had a daughter. And yet I have a huge void in my life... 

       This week I was flying around from Goodwill shops to Target  and (sorry) Walmart. Yesterday my husband loaded up a U-Haul trailer and headed to the other side of the state. And it was all for our son, who recently snagged a job in his field, along with an apartment in a very funky part of his new "home" town.

      Looking back on our days when parenting was an every-minute exhausting affair, I cannot imagine what my life would be life if I had to miss out on the joys, the sorrows, the fumbling. My daughter and her family, my son...our lives are so rich because of them.

      My birth father may not have even known about my biological mother's pregnancy. If so, he doesn't even know what he's missing out on.

      But my husband and I know all-too-well what he missed...

(Note: I was prompted to write this post because of what Barbara Hodges wrote on a recent post of hers. If you don't know Barb, you must take my word for it. She is one of the few "ladies" I know--always gracious, always kind--is a retired teacher, and is a prolific writer. Her parents really missed out on something special, but her grandparents got a gem of a deal!)


  1. We all have our child within who wants to know our parents. Hats off to the men who stepped up to the plate when the sperm donors wouldn't.

  2. Beautiful, and you're so right. My former husband moved away after the divorce. The oldest was in high school then. I heard through the grapevine that he said older children aren't much work, anyway. He really didn't participate in child-rearing when we were married, but when he left, he lost more than his children and their respect. He lost value as a human being. I'm with you--hats off to the men who step in and step up. They are kings among men.

  3. Linda--I agree. The men who do the day-to-day work of being a dad deserve our praise.

    Fireblossom---You made me laugh with just a name. (And I think you made me even more Greek by putting in an extra syllable. But what do I know, since it's Greek to me!)

    Tammy---Your ex is whackadoo! True, older kids don't need their diapers changed when they pee and poop, but teenagers sometimes make US almost pee and poop in our pants over the jams they get themselves into. It's your husband's loss. And I wholeheartedly agree about his lack of value. (But your last name is a great one for a writer, so if you got that from him, you got some great things out of the deal: the kids and the name.)

  4. Sioux, thanks for those very kind words. You are a dear and that's right, "he" missed the boat on you, if he knew and kept on going anyway. But the heartbeat keeps going with your hubby helping his son. We can do our small individual parts to help the young men in our lives appreciate the value of being a man.

  5. Beautiful post. I'm happy the Lord blessed you with a loving family, even if you had a rocky start. You're such a doll, I'd say those decades of love and attention worked their magic.

    When my daughter was in 7th grade her class had a "hero" project. It could be anyone they chose, living or dead. Parents were invited to the presentations to hear about their child's hero. My daughter picked her older sister (who was in college in NY and couldn't attend). A classmate picked his dad. He went through the whole presentation talking about all the time his dad spent with him fishing, camping, playing sports; all the time talking and helping and teaching. At the end, he said, "So you're my hero. Not just because you're the dad I would have picked if God had let me, but because you've been an amazing dad even though you didn't have to be." It was then he told everyone his dad married his mom when he was 6 and adopted him a year later. Not a dry eye in the room. It is true what they say--any many can be a father; it takes someone special to be a dad.

  6. Well Sioux, I'm sure your adoptive parents are proud of you and you were lucky to be in such a loving home. Even so, it must be hard the not knowing stuff.

  7. Beautiful post, Sioux. I'm still always amazed by the parent who can leave the child, no matter what the age. I didn't know you knew who your birth mother was. She kinda had parenting issues, didn't she?! And yeah, I think she got her countries mixed up...I'd say you were an irish lass! Maybe she meant he worked with grease, or was kind of a greaser...


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