Ever since I can remember, I’ve had two dads. Father’s Day has always been a juggling act that meant more than neckties and homemade ashtrays. While living almost full time with my mom, to me my dad was an elusive figure that appeared every few weeks. He rarely had to be the big, bad disciplinarian no need since I was an angel, of course. I loved the weekends it was my “real dad’s” turn to pick me up and spoil me, carting me off to get ice cream while my stepfather lived in the monotony of daily life. Into my tweens, I went through phases of rebellion when I either wasn’t speaking with my dad, or alternately giving my stepfather the cold shoulder. I became a masterful brat and played my dads against each other.
“I sometimes wondered why these guys deserved their own freaking holiday when the mere existence of two dads created more drama than visible benefits.”
As I grew older, I’d browse the greeting cards for the perfect fit for each. I wouldn’t dare pick the “I love you Daddy” card for my stepfather, yet the cards geared toward stepfathers seemed informal or like an awkward acknowledgment of a father once removed. And what kind of card do you give to a father you only see, at best, once a month?
At my wedding when I’d attained a bit more maturity, there was never a question as to their roles in my special day. I couldn’t leave out either father. My biological dad had drifted in and out of my life over the years, but our relationship finally had turned into something more substantial. My stepfather stuck through all my ages and melodramatic stages and helped raise me to be the woman I am today.
So I floated down the aisle that was covered in lavender roses on the arms of the two men I adored in such different ways. I split my father-daughter dance in half and glided across the dance floor and into my future as I left their dueling nests to create one of my own.
I’m an adult now, but I’ll always be their daughter. The Father’s Day cards I choose now are intentionally cheesy. Instead of neckties or cheap wallets, I try to give them the gift of time spent chatting over a bottle of wine (biological dad) or cheap beer (stepdad). These dads are an important piece to the puzzle that is my life. My husband is also the father of my own two sons, who will in turn grow into fathers themselves someday. I try to give my boys room to create their own traditions and relationships with their dad and other ‘fathers’, and I can’t wait to watch how their father-son relationships evolve as they go through their tweens and teens, and finally, adulthood.
I’m just glad I don’t have to share my motherhood throne with another woman.