Friday 2009 -- Father's Day in America is Sunday

Step-parents and in-laws often get a bad wrap. Sometimes it is warranted and sometimes it is not. I'm sure the Cinderella story didn't help the reputation of step-mothers, and there must be some ugly story about step-fathers, but I can't recall one at the moment (maybe you can remind me of one).

Yesterday I needed to mail a Father's Day card to my step-dad, if I wanted it to arrive on time. So I took the time to write him a letter. I just wanted to express my gratitude that when I was a little girl and he fell in love with my mom, he also fell in love with me and loved me like I was his own. I've been posting a journal everyday on Blip since early January, but I've never written about my step-dad. He's a wonderful man.

My mom and dad divorced when I was very young, and even though my dad always stayed in touch and always paid child support, he was not the Dad who was in my day-to-day life. Mom re-married when I was in 2nd grade, so I was about 7 years old. My step-dad's name is John and I always called him by his name until I no longer lived at home and then somehow the title "Pops" took precedence.

My mom was his first wife and after they married they had one son. So I have an older sister and a younger brother, and I was in the middle.

My step-dad was the one who provided for us. We always had food, clothes, and shelter, and actually we had lots more than that. He cooked breakfast for us every morning--usually eggs, bacon or sausage, and toast. He loved to cook. He loved to grow a garden. He loved to travel and to camp on the weekends. He loved to save money. He could play the accordion and he taught me to play (I wish I still knew how). He loved Christmas.

After Mr. Fun & I got married, my folks moved about 3 hours north of us. So we only saw them every several months. When I was pregnant with our second child, my mom announced that she was leaving my step-dad. I was an emotional wreck, being pregnant just compounded the emotion. Eventually they divorced. That didn't change my relationship with my step-dad, who was technically no longer my step-dad. He's always been my "dad." Now he is the only living parent I have. My mom died 26 years ago from cancer, and my real dad died 17 years ago from leukemia. I think my step-dad is 83 years old.

In the letter I mailed to him yesterday, I told him how very much I appreciated that he loved me when I was a very unlovable teenager . . . I was obnoxious, rebellious, and contentious (just to name a few characteristics). I put my parents through much mental anguish when I was 13, 14, and 15 and then I got married.

I've told him many times before, but I just wanted to tell him again that I am so thankful that he became my "dad." On another day I'll tell you more about my step-dad. I know you would like him too.

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol

Edit 12 hours later: I guess I should have mentioned a bit more about my "real" dad, so here's a link to a previous blip about Dad.

P.S. Thanks for all the comments about Lake Elsinore yesterday.