So who else loves being called Dad?

It's pretty great isn't it?

They called me...Dad.

By today’s standards, I was young. Some would say I was too young to get married at only 20 years old. It seems the average 20 year old today is still learning to lace his shoes correctly. Pile on the responsibility of marriage and most would probably run the other way. It makes me feel like an old guy to say that, but whatever…Get off my lawn!!

Anyway, I was 20 years old and God had sent me the love of my life in what may have been the most unconventional way possible. She suddenly appeared right in front of me as I walked out of the bathroom. Serious. She was walking out of the bathroom, too. Well, not the same bathroom. That would have been a little awkward. She was coming out of the Lady’s Room and I the Men’s room. You think I am playing, but I am dead serious. Anyhow, she was the real deal and when I say the real deal, I mean THE REAL DEAL. Vikki was (and still is) everything I ever wanted in a wife. She has a heart of gold that is sold out to her Creator and a love that extends far beyond my faults and foolish decisions. One thing has been sure since the beginning, our love for each other was a gift. A gift to two imperfect hearts that loved their Creator and wanted to share their lives with someone who did as well. Not a day goes by that I fail to whisper thanks to God for giving me such a precious wife.

So after that strange interaction outside of the “facilities”, we dated/courted for about a year, got epic-ly engaged (my opinion, not hers) and married five months later. Then off to honeymoon on California’s gorgeous central coastline. I remember it was uncharacteristically cold and windy for the first week of May, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was 10 below and blizzard-like conditions. We were married and couldn’t have been happier. Ah, young love. Such bliss. So sweet.

***Funny fact: we still have remnants of one of the towels we purchased on that trip. I say “remnants” because that was close to 17 years ago. Vikki may have tossed it by now, but I did see it recently. More than once I have waved it at my kids. “You see this towel? I have had it longer than I have had you!” They just stare blankly at me because I have never really come up with a good punchline and kinda just stand there wagging it. “And I love it more than I love you!” No, that won’t work. Maybe I should put that one to rest. #dadjokefail***

I digress.

So before we knew it the honeymoon was over (in a literal sense) and back we headed to the Central Valley. Back to real life. Back to work. Back to a newly married normal that neither of us were truly prepped for.

I have been leaving out a pretty significant detail in this story. You see, when I married Victoria, I got a three for one deal. One day I was a single dude living at home and the next day I was married with a 9 year old little guy and a six year old cutie. (Yeah, pretty crazy, huh. My oldest son, just shakes his head when he thinks about how young I was.) I distinctly remember the slow steady drive over the coastal range back to Fresno. Slowly, I began to fully realize what had occurred over the last week. I had married my soul mate, created a family, and become a dad…that quick.

The full weight of my new responsibilities began to really weigh on my suddenly slumping shoulders. What had I done? Was I ready for this? Of, course I had gone over all of this a million times before. But, now it was real. And I was only a couple of hours away from picking up our kids and heading to our apartment for our first night together…as a family. Slightly terrifying.

On we drove to our future together. On to a new exciting life. Every mile in that little white Cavalier drew our family closer to being complete. I don’t remember if Vikki saw the turmoil in me. But, even though I tried to hide it,  I am sure it was plainly visible.

Finally, we pulled up to our Pastor’s home where Kris and Kristen had been staying while we were out of town. I gripped the wheel a little too tightly and a huge sigh poured out from way down deep inside of me. I can see Vikki putting her hand on my shoulder, with a knowing smile, like she has done so many times since then. “It will be fine.” she said. Sure. Easy for you to say. You have almost a decade of parenting behind you. Me? The clock is just about to start ticking.

We got out of the car, quickly stretched our stiff limbs, and then walked up to the door as a couple. We knocked and slowly the door opened. What happened next will forever be one of the fondest memories of my life.

“MOM!!!!” They ran screaming to Vikki wrapping around her tightly, relieved she was home again.

“DAD!!!! They yelled, shifting their love and attention toward me. Hugs all around. Wait…what?

They called me…Dad. Dad.

For years, I had been “Josh”. Then, Mom’s boyfriend. Most recently, Mom’s fiance. I expected to stay “Josh”. I was OK with that. But it wasn’t “Josh” or “Hey you” or anything else.

They called me…Dad.

It was a far better reception than I ever could have imagined. With one little word, they were accepting me into their young lives as their dad. Completely blown away, I absorbed every drop of their affection, feeling sheepish and slightly embarrassed.

But…they called me Dad. Their Dad.

And they have called me Dad for almost 17 years. Sure, we have had difficult times like any family will, blended or not. We have had good times and bad times. I made a ton of mistakes and some not so good decisions. But in spite of everything, they are mine. My kids. My oldest kids. Yeah, we have had a steady stream of little ones that have busted their way into our family since the four of us came together, but Kris and Kristen were my first. Nothing can change that. I wouldn’t trade being their dad for anything in the world.

They called me Dad. And I wear that title with pride.

 

 

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