Every child has parents.
Whether they’re here, gone, divorced, separated, re-married, etc. We all had to come from somewhere, right? I just so happen to have three parents — one mom and two dads.
No, none of them are separated. No, I’m not adopted. And if you’re wondering if my dads are gay, they’re not.
My biological father died when I was two months old. Growing up, no one ever really asked me how I felt about it. Then again I never really asked myself, but the whole situation affected me a lot more than I expected it to.
I spent the first two years of my life without a father.
It was just my mom and I, living life the best that we could. I remember living with my grandma for a while and eventually moving to an apartment. I don’t remember questioning the absence of a father figure. But at the ripe young age of two, that wasn’t really a major concern of mine. All I cared about was what was for dinner and when I could watch TV.
Joe came into our lives when I was almost three and he hasn’t left since.
I don’t think I cared for him much at first, but then again I didn’t really like anybody. All I knew was that he cared about my mom, which was a good thing. They got married when I was five, but I didn’t just gain a father. Joe had a son, Derek, who became my step-brother. So, there I was with this new, happy family, but I still wasn’t fully satisfied.
I think part of me realized that Joe wasn’t my biological father. Yes, he did raise me, and yes I consider him my dad. But I don’t look the way I do because of him. I don’t have his eyes, his hair, or his height. I’m not biologically or physically me because of him.
Jerome, my other father, never got to meet Joe or Derek.
He never got to see me play music and perform. He won’t be there to walk me down the aisle, or to give me advice on how to raise a family. Not only do I get to miss out on knowing him, he has to miss out on getting to know ME.
But honestly, I feel lucky. Not that I lost a father, but that I not only have one, but two very influential men in my life that I can call “my father.” Most people don’t have that kind of unique opportunity, and I’m grateful for both amazingly special individuals who helped make me the way I am today.
Every day I wake up and realize that if Jerome hadn’t passed away, my life would be completely different. I would be living in Hawaii, going to church every Sunday, wasting time at the beach instead of doing homework.
Nothing I have today would be a part of my life.
I wouldn’t have met some of the best people I’ve ever known, I wouldn’t have gained an entirely new and wonderful family. So I’ve come to the conclusion that no matter how sad or life changing this whole situation has been, everything in life happens for a reason.