My Five Parents

As I watched today's 9/11 10-year anniversay memorial shows, I was most touched by the stories of children who lost a parent. Some still children and others now adults told stories of a lost parent they either remember well or in some cases never met. I thought back to the show "My Three Sons," where a widower raises his three sons with the help of his father-in-law. The boys in that story lost a mom but they gained an extra father. In later episodes, the dad remarries and they gain a stepmother. That same story, certainly in a less comedic fashion, has played out for many of these 9/11 families. 

It reminded how lucky I was to have had three fathers and two mothers growing up.

My "blood" father, while haunted by demons that made traditional family life impossible, was a good dad in my memories. Note, I'm not saying he was a good man or a good husband, but he showed me love when I was with him. While I've only seen him a handful of times in the past 36 years, when we get together it's friendly and even warm. 

My mom became a single parent of two when they divorced. Not until I became a parent myself did I truly realize what it meant for her at 26-years-old to become a single mom. While many of us might dread the thought of moving in with our in-laws, I can understand why she sacrificed to do just that for us. So it was that we, like in the "My Three Sons" storyline, were also raised by my mom's in-laws. 

My grandmother, my second mom, and my grandfather, my second dad, took us in just as they entered their retirement years. Imagine working all your life, raising your own three kids, preparing to spend your golden years enjoying the fruits of your labor, and instead you take in two pre-teen boys to help raise. For the next 8 years we would live with my grandparents while my mom went back to school with the dream of creating a new life for herself and her kids. 

My stepfather, my third dad in the chronological sequence of this post, loved my mom so much he married her twice. He came into our lives as I was entering my teens. Thank goodness for his patience and his respect for my mom, because Lord knows I did not make it easy for him. Once again, I was blessed with another great role model in my life. While he may be a step-dad in the fact we're not blood relatives, he's only a "step" in the fact he's a step-above as a father. I now call him my dad. 

I learned a lot from my five parents. Some unique to each one while other lessons were shared among them. I like to think that my open-mindedness comes from the fact that I was exposed to different view points born of experiences ranging from the Great Depression to the turbulence of the 60's. Having parents whose age range spanned two generations gave my brother and me an expanded view of the world and life. We even saw some of those viewpoints change over the years and we adapted and grew with them. 

I lost the first of my five parents a couple of years ago. His death was certainly not as tragic as anything the 9/11 families had to endure. Yet, I know how much I miss him. I pray for the 9/11 families and their continued healing. Please know that you inspire me, you remind me to be grateful for the now, and you motivate me to not leave the important things unsaid and deeds undone.