25 years ago, Dad married Mom. She’s not biologically my mother, but she’s the one who saw me through puberty, who took the brunt of my abuse when I was dealing with hormone-induced bipolar.
She took on two children who were not her own. Her family took them on, no questions asked. Even after the birth, and loss, of Joshua, and the birth of Megan, never ONCE did I feel like I was second-best in their family. A child, who had felt abandoned by all that she knew, couldn’t have asked for a better family to be practically adopted into.
I never felt unloved or unwanted. Even through the scream-fests, after, and I’m sure she never knew this, I would cry myself to sleep knowing I was pushing away one person who loved me unconditionally and not knowing how to fix it.
I’m so thankful that the relationships have been rebuilt and that Mom and Dad have never given up on each other, themselves, or their family.
The pic I have used is from when Madi wasn’t even a year old. Mom and Dad had come down, with Daniel and Megan, during a Spring Break, or over the summer. She was either just a few months old, or nearly a year. Either way, this is one of the few photos I have of Mom and Dad together, but the smile on Mom’s face literally brings a tear to my eye, and the look on Madi’s face to Dad just makes me giggle. She’s still known for giving him those looks.
Anyways, Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. Dad, I’m so glad you found someone to love you as you deserve to be loved, someone who’ll push you to your brink, in more ways than one , and will make you think, fight, and love. Everyone deserves that. Mom, thank you for taking in two children who were in desperate need of love and care, ones who hadn’t felt it in awhile (at no blame to Dad, so shut it everyone else). You healed two little hearts that didn’t even really know they were hurting until they’d felt that love.