Are You My Daddy?

Just a few minutes ago the phone rang. I heard my new step-dad's voice on the end asking, "Is this my daughter?"

That was awesome.

I'm no stranger to sitting in an emergency room with one kid or another. Between Kady's asthma and Sam being a boy and breaking limbs occasionally, I've seen my share of emergency room waits. The only time I didn't call my mom during an ER crisis was the one that happened the night before my Papa's funeral and that was because my mom was utterly exhausted as it was, I didn't think staying up most of the night with Kady and I was what she needed. Of course, she was upset that I didn't call her when she found out the next day, but I'm totally digressing.

So yesterday, after Best Nurse Ever had made her initial checking-out of my boy, I called my mom's cell phone to let her know what was going on. I started talking and she interrupted with, "We're in the waiting room. Can we come back?" Now, Mom's been in the delivery room for the birth of each of her grandchildren; she's a very hands-on Grammy. There are few moments she misses. In case you hadn't noticed, we're a very close family.

Pops didn't have to be there yesterday. Heck, he's only been an official member of the family for 9 days now. He wasn't preaching last night because of Father's Day (Our little bitty church cancels evening services on holidays and special occasions) and he could've easily just kicked back in his recliner and enjoyed his evening off, but instead he was right there with Mom to be with his daughter and grandson when we needed him.

Loving him has come easily and naturally and our family is better because of him. He has accepted each and every one of us unconditionally and he didn't have to. Sometimes when families blend, it's not always smooth and harmonious. Our has been.

So, even though Mom hasn't allowed him to read the blog just yet, Happy Father's Day, Pops.

I love you.