#1 Dad

When I was little I played with dolls.  I imagined being a wife and a mom  one day – it was a dream I had.  That, and becoming a writer.  I never, ever thought about being a dad.  What little girl does? 

At 28, my dream came true.  It happened again at 30, and for the third time when I was 34.  Life was perfect.  I was a writer, a mom,  and a wife, and my kids had the best dad in the world. 

I know everyone says that – that their husband or dad is the best dad in the world.  I loved it when my kids would say I was the best mom in the world.  They said it like it was the truth.  They made me believe it was true because I was the best to them.  That’s all that counts.  And as far as Matthew, Meaghan, Julia and I are concerned, their dad was the best dad in the world. 

For 13 years of motherhood, life was perfect.  We had happy kids and a happy life.  I was living the dream that I had when I was little.  But luck shifted toward the end of year 13, and life interjected something I hadn’t planned for or ever dreamed of.  When I was four days shy of turning 41, I became a dad, sort of.  By default.  By force.  By necessity.

I’ve written about this before – about how my kids so endearingly acknowledge on Father’s Day my attempts at being to them what their dad was, and about how I’m the first to admit I will never be able to fill those size 9.5 EEE shoes.  Jeff was funny and goofy, and he had high expectations for them.  He was devoted, and in love with his family.  He saw his role as a dad as the greatest gift God ever gave him.  He was the best, bar none, to us.

 Now with the 14^th Father’s Day without him upon us, my kids and I still miss their #1 dad.  This Father’s Day marks the year that all of my kids have been without their dad longer than they’ve had him physically in their lives.  Anyone who has lost someone knows the physical absence doesn’t make missing them go away just because time has passed.

My heart breaks for my kids when I see other dads with their adult children, and I wonder what our kids and Jeff would be like together at this stage.  I picture them having their first (legal) beer together, him congratulating them on landing their first jobs, celebrating their first real paycheck.  I silently wish he had been here to show Matthew how to shave; to see them graduate; to help them through their first heartbreaks. I say to myself as I watch these young adults interact with their #1 dads – “appreciate him, respect him, and love him.  You don’t know how lucky you are.”

Not just on Father’s Day, but every day.