An old dirt road and the man I call my Dad

I never knew my biological father. My parents were divorced before I was born.

About 15 years ago my Mom married a wonderful man. He's a kind and caring man and I sometimes think of what it would have been like to have him as my Dad all along. He calls me Sissy and I like that a lot. I couldn't ask for a better father if I had hand picked him myself.

When I was about 8 years old we lived on an old dirt road. The kids in the neighborhood would swim in the lake next to my house. This was back before computers and video games and we would play outside all day. We would drink from the hose outside when it got hot and not come home until we heard our parents calling us for dinner. We played in the street a lot, but the highlight of our week was when the road grader would come by. It was a huge tractor with blades that would smooth out our old washboard dirt road. We would follow behind the grader and ride our bikes in the fresh piles of dirt it would leave on the edge of the road. And I remember the grader operator too. He would watch us in his rear view mirror to make sure we didn't get too close. He never fussed at us. He would just smile and shake his head.

Now flash forward to about a year ago. We were having one of our family get-togethers when I told the story about the dirt road and the grader. Come to find out, my step-father, who has worked for the county all his life, was the grader operator that graded our road! He knew me back when I was just a little brat on a bright pink bicycle and had no idea at the time that 40 years later he would be my father! It's funny how fate has a way of bringing people together. Now I feel like we're the family that always should have been.

I love you very much, Papa, and I'm proud to call you my dad.

Happy Father's Day!