It's not fathers day but...

I feel the need to express my pride in my family. My husband is an amazing father. My son Oliver is so lucky. So incredibly lucky to have someone like him for a father. He doesn't even know. But I do. I had a shitty dad. One who ran out on us when I was too young to remember. Had a baby with someone else, never told me, never talked to me again for 18 years when his mother, My grandmother, died. And even after that he still sucked as a parent, we were strangers with nothing more in common than some DNA. I had one parent. I always wondered what it was like to have a dad, a real dad not a dead-beat drunk asshole dad. Was always jealous of those families who had a mother and a father. I don't have to be jealous anymore. I don't have to wonder what it'd be like to have a good dad. I do. I get to experience all the love he gives to my son first hand. Maybe it's better that I missed out on all that father-bonding time. Because now that I'm old enough to understand what this love is all about it makes me feel so good to see. The way he looks at Oliver, the way Oliver looks to him and idolizes him and everything he does. I'm glad we work through our fights. Because raising Oliver as a team is incredible work and we've got a real winner on our hands if we can somehow continue to do this right. Love u Daniel.



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