Skip to main content

To my daughter, today is your parent's wedding anniversary

Momma and Papa on one of our first dates
To my daughter,

Today is the fourth anniversary of your Momma and Papa getting married. It's a day we both cherish because it solidified our commitment to build a family of our own together, which lead to us adopting you. 

I know someday you'll ask us what our wedding was like (I still owe your Momma a more fairytale-like wedding than our trip to Toledo), and you will wonder how we met (pub crawls are not necessarily bad things if you keep your wits about you). What I hope you ask me is when I knew your Momma was special. 

I was certainly intrigued the night I met Momma. She had a sharp sense of humor, beautiful eyes, a smile that still captivates me and she made me feel completely at ease. But it was the night after the pub crawl that I knew she was someone extraordinary.

First of all, I felt no hesitation in texting her the next morning, breaking every dating rule that I'd heard from friends the previous few years. We then hopped on the phone that night and spoke for almost an hour, and it was the most effortless conversation I can remember. Keep in mind that I hate talking on the phone and rarely do so, even with the people closest to me. Finally, we met at the Bronx Bar later that night after she finished some studying. 

What I learned about your Momma that night was she has a compassionate soul, keeps her family in the forefront of her mind and actions, she is an earnest worker, she has an artistic streak that still needs an outlet and she is dogged in her pursuit of knowledge. I don't remember much about what time our impromptu date ended that night, although I know I tried a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato slices cooked into the sandwich for the first time. I do remember thinking that she was someone I could see a future with, and my future has included her since that day.

This might sound odd to you because we aren't your birth parents, but the day we met you, you reminded me of that first real date with Momma. You both have beautiful eyes that are more expressive then the words that leave your lips. You both have smiles that melt hearts. You both can be slow to warm up to people but when you love, you love with all your heart.  

Life as a couple hasn't always been easy for your Momma and Papa, the state of our first apartment is a testimony to that. But it has been loving and together. And our lives have become better with you in it. Today isn't just a happy anniversary for your Momma and Papa, it's a happy celebration of our family. I'm already looking forward to next year. 

Love, Papa

Popular posts from this blog

Our family became whole because another family fell apart

A co-worker shared a powerful story from Huffington Post with me today. It was one adoptive mother's account of the days from meeting their birth mother to walking away from the hospital with their soon-to-be-adopted daughter in tow. I almost cried reading it because I can relate to the story in many ways, especially the feelings of uncertainty that are ever present until you see the amended birth certificate in the mail. 
"Bearing witness to her sorrow, I realize BabyMama is also experiencing three days of labor. As we text and grieve, we experience the contractions of the heart and body and mind together." -Kathleen Dennehy 
Our situation was different. The family in the story had to wait for three days in the hospital while the birth mother had to make the impossible decision to surrender her child for adoption. The Kid's foster mom had taken her home from the hospital and cared for her until her birth parent's legal rights to custody were terminated. We met h…

To a generous young trick-or-treater for his kindness

Our neighborhood is unbelievable on Halloween night. Starting about 6 p.m., our street is packed with trick-or-treaters. If you don't start stockpiling candy early, you could go broke trying to keep up with the crowd.

The Kid doesn't really like the trick-or-treating part, she loves to hand out the candy. She ventured out twice, once with me and once with Grandma, but returned because she loved being the helper kid who was making everyone enjoy their holiday.

One young man hesitated at our door after she stuffed a few treats into his bag. If I had to guess, he was about 10 or 11 years old himself. He started fumbling in his bag, pulled out a treat and said, "This is for her since she hasn't been out trick-or-treating for herself."

I think he was a little embarrassed by our effusive praise of his generosity. He didn't have to do that for our little Wonder Woman. She was having a great time and has a boatload of candy from her two tours of our block. But he wa…

A random conversation at the Peninsula Grill

There were four of us seated at the bar last night at the Peninsula Grill, a regular on the end to my left and a couple at the other end on my right. I purposefully picked the middle of the bar so I could watch the Tigers game while journaling in peace. Between finishing my soup and my whitefish arriving, I had managed to fill almost an entire page.  

I write letters to The Kid in the journal. Someday, I will probably give it to her. Many of my letters are simple remembrances of the funny things she said, accounts of the astute observations she's made or me reminding her future self of the giving things she did as a four year-old. Some of the content is about my journey to becoming her Papa, and that can be deeply personal. She's also getting to an age that blogging all of it is no longer appropriate, she deserves her privacy, so I decided several months ago to start an old-school journal to preserve my memories.  
After dinner, which was excellent, I continued to pour my hea…