Think back on your life growing up and picture your role model. That person in your life that appeared so strong and so unwavering that you just knew that everything would be alright. That person that taught you the tough lessons like how to grin and bear it when you got knocked down, time and time again. That same person that also taught you that it's okay to feel sad and that, yes, real men do cry sometimes. By this point I'm sure many of you will have the perfect image of your father's face in mind. For people like me, however, it's a little more complicated than that.
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I was born an only-child to an amazingly intelligent, warm-hearted, and driven mother, who raised me without a father. I had three aunts and three uncles, each of whom had 2-3 children that regularly stayed with us during the summer or after school. These cousins became my brothers and sisters. When I was younger, I never gave our family dynamic a second thought. However, as I grew up I began to notice that I was missing something that everyone else had. Watching perfect parents on TV, seeing my friends learn sports with their dads, and skipping fishing trips with them because nobody had ever taught me how to fish, made me yearn for something that I had never known.
To this day, I still clearly remember Father's Day in elementary school. Everyone painted their classic "#1 Dad" mugs during arts and crafts and excitedly took them home to give their father his present. Just as fresh in my memory is the awkward feeling of not knowing who exactly I was making my gifts for. In my childish mind, I thought that somehow I was incomplete or less of a man for growing up without a father. To this day I have never met him, but now I see that what I was given instead was just as valuable.
My father probably had his reasons for going away. While I can't honestly say I don't wonder about what it might have been like if he hadn't left, my mother filled that gap in my life and then some. When I would ask questions like, "why isn't Dad here?", she would patiently answer my questions even though I'm sure, inside, she wondered the same. When I got knocked down and wanted to quit, she was the one who showed me that you have to drive yourself even harder. When I was scared or weak, my mother was my rock. But she also taught me that it takes a real man to be able to be honest and genuine with himself and his feelings.
Sometimes I still ask myself why Dad isn't here and, I won't lie, sometimes it still stings. But I grin and bear it because I have my answer now. Dad isn't here because it wouldn't be fair if I was given more than what my mom gave me.
