Happy Father's Day.......Part I

If you are a regular reader of my blog, you know that I was adopted at birth and had a pretty miserable existence as a child. My Adopted Dad (AD) was a hard working, loving father when I was young. He doted on me when I was a baby and a toddler. He built Lincoln Log houses for me and made me a doll house by hand.

He left me and my brother when I was 9 when he and my AM (Adopted Mom) got divorced. He moved 4 hours away from Portland, Oregon to Tri-Cities, Washington. From then on I saw him on visitation's and for 1 1/2 years I lived with him and his new wife when I was 13. He was my protector and as soon as he left the home my abuse went into hyper mode. I always loved him, but he became a distant father as I got older. As I grew up I became to resent him for leaving me and then becoming bitter because he didn't do anything to help me. To give him credit, I don't know that he really ever knew, but I don't know how that was possible.


I did know that he loved me and he made Christmas special for me my entire childhood. He LOVED Christmas, especially the village he created every year. He spent hours and hours putting it together and he would just beam when us kids would wake up and see it finished. He would run the train through the mountains and meadows he created. He had small cardboard houses, lead people. lead animals and a ton of trees. They are antiques now, but I don't know what happened to them when he passed away several years ago.


His love and magic he created at Christmastime brought joy into my life if but only for a few weeks. Christmas still remains my favorite holiday and I now have carried the "village" tradition in my own life and family. My kids grew up with the "village" and I would spend the same painstakingly, but lovingly hours building my magic for my children. If you ask one of my kids what one of their favorite memories are, they would probably answer Christmastime. Within my little city walls you could lose yourself in the lighted houses, the people walking down the city center and the snow covered trees. It was truly magic!

My village in 2006


I don't remember a time when I didn't know I was adopted, but unlike my AM I felt like I had a father. I always wanted to find my birthmom (BM), but I never felt like I needed or wanted to find my birthfather (BF). The earliest age I can remember wanting to find my "real" family was at the age of 9, which coincidentally was when my abuse started. I don't remember once having a thought or desire to find my BF and it really didn't bother me. It was like he never existed and he wasn't in the equation and fantasy I created for myself and my BM. I believe I didn't have that desire because I had a father, but I later learned exactly why I didn't have that desire.


My AD was a good Dad overall. He had his faults, but like I have said about my AM, I believe he did the very best he could at the time. I distanced myself from him as an adult and I did that by choice, this seemed to be very prominent when I found my BM and learned about my BF. I might have been inconsiderate in my dismissal of him, but I really don't regret it. I have tremendous peace with putting to rest my past and both my AM and AD who have passed away. I will always respect and honor him as my AD, but my BF is my REAL Dad and I will talk about him tomorrow. For now, thanking you AD for being in my life.