I have yet to meet my biological father. The man I called Daddy was my stepfather. He married my mother when I was 7. He came into the relationship understanding he would have to be a father and an uncle to my mother’s niece. He watched over the two of us as if he had given birth to us. He was not put off by my grandmother, who insisted he was not a real man. She would say such things to my muscled step-father for he not only cooked and cleaned but he also took time to have tea with me and my dolls.
Knowing he was in my corner was the difference between my being in class and my succeeding in class. My childhood was not perfect. There was much pain. However, having Daddy active in my life made it better.
Happy Father’s Day