I’ve written a lot about my mother on this blog, but nearly nothing about the man that donated his sperm so that I could be sitting here today.
I know nothing about my father. I don’t know his name, where he is now, what he does for a living, or why he chose to walk away from a child that he knew was his. Sounds weird to say that… I don’t see myself as “his” in any way, shape, or form.
Most of my life I have been so enraged at my mother for her drug addiction that forced her away from her children. I have been so overwhelmed and emotional about the mother that was there and left, that I completely lost interest in caring about the father that never existed. It is hard to hate or be angry with someone that never made an impression on you. My biological “father” rarely crosses my mind, and I am completely okay with that, but today is one day where I always wonder about what could have been had he chosen to take responsibility of me.
I am lucky enough to say that a man did step up for me. He became the father that my coward sperm donor chose not to be. He loves me, supports me, and encourages me. He was at every softball game, graduation, piano recital, and he will be the man that walks me down the wedding aisle someday. I am extremely fortunate that my uncle took me in and raised me as his own. I will be forever in his debt.
Happy Father’s Day to my Uncle Sam. Thank you for being my dad today and everyday.
I love you very much.