Parents, I am a real one...

Well, it has been awhile and please don't think that I have had nothing to say. I just haven't had a lot of time to say, (or in this case), blog it. Now I know that I usually come with some satirical bit of wisdom or observation, but not today.
Something has been heavy on my heart and I figured that this was the perfect place to bring it up.

Parenthood.

As most of you know, I am married and have a daughter. Now pay attention here, My daughter is my wife's biological child and my child by marriage. I met my daughter when she was 17 months and am the only father she has ever known. The biological donor has never seen her, nor has he made any attempts, to my knowledge, to be part of her life, (sometimes I am sad for him and for what he is missing). Make no mistake though, she is my daughter and I am her father. My wife and I are currently trying to have another child. Because of the time we have been trying and the obvious lack of conception we are currently considered by the medical profession technically infertile. By definition this means that we have been actively trying with no results for 24 months or more.
Recently, my wife and I were hanging out with friends, as tends to happen on a pretty regular basis. During the course of the evening, I made a comment in regards to a particular parenting style and one of my good friends looked at me and said, "Well, when you become a real dad, you will understand."
Now, I can't even tell you what that did to my person. Never in my life have I had to immediately restrain myself from coming absolutely unglued. Even though I remained silent, for there is really nothing to say to a comment of that nature, I wanted, with every fiber of my being to unleash every ounce of fury and pain that I could muster on my friend who had made this comment. Fortunately, I am better now. I understand that he did not utter those words in order to crush me the way that it did. He did not intend to cause me pain or to discredit my effort as a father. He made a comment that he shouldn't have. He has since apologized.
Even though him and I are fine, I think it is important that people understand something.
In my family of 6 siblings, 3 of us are adoptive parents. So it is possible that this topic hits a little close to home. But I think that people need to be educated and if I do nothing about it, then I am simply part of the problem. I prefer to be an instigator of educated thought and communication than a wart on the hind end of our culture. So class is in session...

Adoptive parents, like myself, are a little different. I feel that I need to make something very clear. They choose to be parents. They do not choose because they are missing something, they choose because they have too much of something. My two sisters who have adoptive families, had too much love. They had so much love for their spouses that there was not enough space in one person to contain it all. There needed to be a receptacle for all that was offered. In the same light, the children had too much life for their current situation. They needed a place where they could be who they were meant to be and to grow and explore and affect the lives of so many other people. With my daughter, I first fell in love with my wife and I had a choice. If I was going to continue to love her there was more than just her. There was this little baby girl. Now I could say that she would be fine and that I would be fine if I opted out of the relationship, but that wouldn't be true. I look at my nieces and nephews who are adopted and it is clear that they were made to be in our family. They were not chanced into our family they were designed for it. The same way that our family was designed for their arrival. Abby and I are the same way. I would not be complete without her and she would not be complete without me.
It is important for people to know that eggs, sperm and DNA do not make one a father or a mother. Here are my poetic thoughts on the subject...

I didn't give you eyes
But I will teach you how to see
I didn't make your ears
But I will teach you how to listen
I didn't make your mouth
But I will teach you how to sing
I didn't make your heart
But I will show you how to love
Together we'll teach each other
and it will always be enough

So, what is the moral? I am a real dad. It's simple, it's true and it will never change.

Do you feel smarter?

Stuck in Pittsburgh...

Have you ever had one of those days? Welcome to Wednesday. I am in Pittsburgh and was supposed to be in the air an hour and a half ago. Actually, if it were not for an on board computer problem, (The plane obviously runs on a windows platform!), I would be landing in Chicago in about 4 minutes. But alas, I am still here in beautiful and chilly Pittsburgh.
Now I am a little new to the amount of travel that I currently experience, but I can't believe it is a good thing when they have to, "Reboot" a plane. From this point on, if I hear that they have to reboot a plane, I am just going to calmly collect my things and ask for another flight. Maybe Steve Jobs and the boys from Apple should make an operating system for planes. You think?

Live from Atlanta...

While in Atlanta I had a chance to visit the Martin Luther King Jr. Community Center and surrounding area. I saw his home, his church and his grave as well as the grave of the recently departed Mrs. King. I was alone and there was no one else around except for a young black couple with their two small children. As I walked, I wondered if the children grasped what their parents were exposing them to at that very moment. I wondered if they understood that the person they were here to acknowledge changed their life forever, as well as the life of my wife, my daughter and myself. I wondered if they would grow to understand his passion and his sacrifice. Then, I wondered if they would ever know that He was not merely a conduit for social change, but that he was a man who had given his life to service. He was a man who had chosen to serve God and his fellow man before serving himself. Needless to say the moment impacted me greatly. I thought about it the entire time I was in Atlanta and wondered if things would be different if he were still alive today. Then I remembered, the Man who made him, was still alive. The creator of that man, was still alive. He was still creating. He was still producing conduits of change, possibly the two children that ran around laughing and giggling or possibly my daughter 3,000 miles away. Maybe even me.