Exploring My Father : The Father Of The Father

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My stepfather, who I call father, once told me that parenting only required love not DNA. Throughout my life I always found myself in a place where I wondered why my biological father never made the effort to see me, not once, but makes time for his other kids every day. Due to my biological father’s abandonment on my mother and I, there has always been a sense of not good enough in my life, it felt like I was trying to fill up a cup with tiny holes in it. The more water I put in the cup the more just seemed to pour out. However, when my father (stepfather) came into the picture it was like I was brought a brand-new actual cup that I could actually fill up without worries. There has never been a time with him that he did not try to give me the best he could or made me feel any different for not being his biological kid. I have always been blown away with the genuine love I receive from this him as times went from changing my diapers to helping me move into college.
When my dad got his first orders to Paris Island, South Carolina my mother stayed behind in Virginia so she could finish her RN to BSN program, leaving my dad to raise two girls on his own for two years. My dad was nervous to take on his first duty station and to be almost like a single father to two young girls. There was nothing he could not do, I thought of him as my hero. He was tough as nails while we adjusted from new housing arrangements and his wife being away. He would home in his green camo uniform

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