Sometimes a dad isn't the father

As far back as I can remember, my dad was dedicated and wanted the best for me. My mom used to tell me how he would wake me in the middle of the night to change my diapers so that I would stay dry. Throughout my life, his dedication remained steadfast. He always wanted me to be happy, he ensured I had morals and values, and he was always there. He told the greatest stories about his life. One of the greatest things he taught me was to live, not just exist.

My dad was my best friend. He owned his own trucking company and had two great big dump trucks that were always parked in the back yard. He was always working on those trucks, and I was always right by his side, trying to help. He used to go to the junk yards looking for parts and I would tag along. The junk yards became a playground for me. While my dad was pulling parts from old cars, I was using my imagination to play in those old cars. I was a race car driver racing the Indy 500 or an ambulance driver rushing to save lives. I had the best childhood.

As I got older, my dad was always there. I became a bit distant due to the teenage years and this was a sad time for my dad. However, his devotion never waned. If I had a flat tire 30 miles away, he came to change it. He was upset but he never showed it. He was just happy I was safe. One day, my car broke down and I needed the starter replaced. My dad said, “This time, you are going to help me fix it, so you know how to do it. I am not going to live forever, you know.” I never considered the possibility of him being gone from my life. In my world, he would live forever. Nevertheless, I helped him change out that starter and through the years, he taught me how to fix many other things in my car.

My dad served in the military and was stationed in Alaska for a couple of years. He truly hated being stationed there but did his time peacefully and straight through until the end. He would always tell us the story about being there and when it was time to go on leave, he would stay. The other guys used to ask him, “Ralph, why don’t you ever go on leave to visit your family?” He would reply, “Because if I leave, I won’t come back.”

My dad was also an incredible dancer. I still recall him and my mom dancing in the living room to the Glenn Miller Band. He taught me how to jitter bug, too. Again, he always had the most incredible stories of traveling around America and entering dance contests. He was once offered a gig to travel and dance professionally in New York. But he chose to come home to our little town and marry my mom. This was many years before I was even a thought.

My dad taught me so many things. As a result, I am the woman I am today. My dad was the most amazing man. He taught me the old ways and passed a legacy on to me that I prayed I would pass to my child and grandchildren. I am also the grandmother I am today because, you see, my dad wasn’t my father, in fact, he wasn’t a father at all. He was my step grandfather.

This man stepped up and raised my mother from the age of 8 years old. When my mother had me, she gave me to my grandparents and this man stepped in as my dad. When I had my daughter, he helped me raise her.

My dad never had any biological children. He was never a “father”, but he was the greatest dad anyone could ask for.

Today, my dad is gone, but his legacy lives on with me. I am now a grandmother and a mom to one of my grandchildren. Before I became a grandmother, I had an amazing career in law enforcement.

My dad taught me to live and not just exist. He taught me to have great stories to pass on to my grandchildren. He taught me the old ways so that I could pass on integrity, hard work, morals, and respect. He taught me to have independence. Most of all, he taught me what unconditional love is.

I hope all dads out there can pass on the great things in their lives to the new generation of children. Whether you’re a stepdad, a granddad, or even a mentor to a child. Always remember, a dad is not always the father, but you will always have influence in that child’s life.