“My mother stuck a 3×5 index card to a bulletin board at University of Maine about 30 years ago, looking for a border. She was a single mom of three with a giant house and she needed help paying the bills.
That’s where she met my step-dad.
He lived with us for two years before they got married. And let me tell you, my brothers and I weren’t easy to get to know. There were a lot of “you’re not my dad”s yelled at him.
He wasn’t the prefect dad, but he was our dad. He was there for the practices and games, the teacher’s conferences, the scrapes and tears and heartbreaks, the laughter and the fun. He’s always been there for us, and continues to be.
He and our mom made sure they remained friends after they got divorced. We don’t have to choose where to go for holidays. Everyone – including Bill and his girlfriend – come to Mom’s. They are the living example of how divorce should be.
When I got married, people were surprised he walked me down the aisle. It was a no-brainer to me. He’s my dad. He’s Grampa to my two girls and my niece and nephew.
I’m the youngest of three, and the only girl. He was the dad I needed when our biological father couldn’t do his job. I’ve never called him dad by name, but he’s 100% my dad.
I love my dad. He chose to love a single mom with three kids, not an easy undertaking at all. He’s as much a dad as any biological father. He chose us.
He’s stuck with us forever and I couldn’t be happier about that. Love you, Bill!”