I will admit, I’ve never been one to care much about Mother’s or Father’s Day… Neither my biological mother or father were ever really in the picture. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know my dad’s name or what he looks like.
I was raised by my aunt and uncle and I always celebrated them on these holidays, but there was always something that never quite felt the same. Every Mother’s Day I would wonder about my mom and every Father’s Day I wondered if he even felt like the holiday was for him. My aunt and uncle did everything for me that a biological parent would do, and I’d never want to dismiss that, but I would still always feel a tinge of pain on these holidays.
Then I got engaged and had a daughter. And everything changed.

I no longer feel the pain of absence on these days. I celebrate these days with my family and I don’t ever even wonder about what could have been. Mother’s Day is to celebrate me, and Father’s Day is to celebrate the amazing dad that Dylan is.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was worried about being a good mom. I never really questioned whether or not Dylan would be a good dad because when I sat on that hospital bed sick as a dog and the doctor came back into the room to confirm my pregnancy, my head fell to my hands and I started to bawl. But when I looked up at Dylan…
He was smiling the most exhilarating smile I’ve ever seen, still to this day. His facial expression that day comforted any worry that he would be an exuberant partner to me and a phenomenal dad to our child. He has proved time and time again that he is here to stay and willing to do whatever it takes to provide for our daughter. I fall in love with him all over again every time I hear him talk so sweetly and gently to Della. He is truly one of the greatest treasures in my life.

He is what has made this day mean so much to me.
He has given Father’s Day a whole new meaning.
