I will never forget it. The first time I heard him introduce me as his daughter. I had known him all my life. He was my Mom's husband. He was the guy that bossed me around and showed up to all my events. He was always good to me but that day he became something so much more. That day he became my Dad.
My biological father had left me the summer before. He wanted nothing to do with me. That cut deep. My Daddy was there to pick up the pieces. That was the first time I realized this guy was something special. I had grown up knowing him as my step-dad. Mark was his name. He was good to me. Treated me like he did my brother and sister and never once turned away from me. He fed me and gave me clothes and toys and books and writing supplies. He got a little upset with me at times. But I am getting sidetracked.
It was about a year after I my biological father had deserted me. As far as I was concerned he was nothing to me and I had no dad. We were at a tractor pull that next summer and I don't know if he knows I heard this conversation or not but I did. He was talking to the president of our club and he was signing me up to become a member so that I could pull too. I was so excited that day to finally be able to "play with the big kids" and drive a tractor down the track. He walked up to Jared and I can still recall the words he had to say. " Hey Jared, I need to sign my daughter up so that she can pull today."
I just about fell off my tractor. He couldn't be talking about my little sister so it had to be. He just introduced me as his daughter. He claimed me as his own.
Later that day I made a point to call him Dad every time I saw him or talked about him. People were confused at first but it didn't take long for word to spread. Mark Gabert was my Dad. I claimed him and he claimed me. We grew closer after that. I listened a little more intently as he worked on my tractor and he write a little more carefully when I brought him my latest poem to read. Now my Dad is not exactly a reader and he is certainly not a big fan of poetry but he always had a thoughtful comment to share when I came in and wanted him to read my latest masterpiece.
My Dad works really hard to provide for us. I mean really hard. Six days a week he shows up to his job at the local slate quarry. He works hard after work to keep the house running and he works hard after that at our family friend's farm to put fresh meat on our table. My Daddy is a hero in my eyes. He goes above and beyond the call of duty. He is always there when I need him and although he is human and he has let me down a time or two he has always accepted me and loved me as his own.
In case you haven't figured it out yet, I love my Daddy very much and I miss him even more when I am away. On this father's day, being 300 miles from my Daddy has been kinda difficult but know this. It changes nothing. Neither time nor distance can ever come between this little girl and her Daddy.
