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The Man I Call My Dad

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The man I call my dad is not biologically related to me. In fact I met the man I call my dad when I was around seven years old, and though he did not contribute his genetic material to aid in my creation, he gave me his heart. The man I call my dad is the most selfless man I know. It was through watching him, that I knew what a real man was supposed to be like. What a real man was supposed to contribute to his home, children, and society.

When looking back at my childhood, I see all the good parts. This man that I call my dad, did his best to make sure we knew that he thought the sun rose and set because we were in his life.

The man I call my dad, is often overlooked, yet he doesn't complain. He would often be the one reminding me to call my biological father for holidays, his birthday and Father's Day. All of the memories I have of the man I call my dad, are filled with laughter, joy, and quality time. This is the man that showed me how to bait a hook, use a lawnmower, and recognize poisonous snakes. He has always accepted me for who I am, and never once tried to make into something I am not. My dad

encouraged me to argue my point and to see the value in my words and opinions. I had no idea he was creating a self-sufficient woman.

The man I call my dad, always picked up the pieces my biological father left behind. He didn't do this for the fanfare, because most of the time, I had no idea it was he who came through for me. He has driven through several states for me, just because he wanted to be sure that I was OK. My dad is the first person I call when I need advice and the first one to offer to help.

The man I call my dad took on that role when he was young and single. He came into a ready made family of three kids and a single mother. He continued to nurture us, and love us like we were his own. In spite of all of the unkindness my biological father sometimes showed, my dad has never spoken ill of him in front of me.

My dad has made me laugh, wiped my tears, bounced my babies on his knee. He has made late night trips to the store when I was sick, waited in the ER with me, and attended all of my school functions. My dad has encouraged me to follow my dreams, and helped me find my voice. He has been there for me as a dad should, and has never made me question the depth of his love for me. My dad has and always will be my hero. He makes me proud every day, and I can only hope that I make him just as proud. There will never be a man that can fill the spot in my heart that my dad has occupied since he made me his little girl.

My Dad with my son Lucas

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