Day 35

4 Feb

Dear Dad,

This is Lazarus, Zoe, and me without my head during Christmas this past year. I love my kids, my babies so much. They are so funny and sweet and absolutely perfect.

But I often wonder what life would be like if we had all met at a different time in my life. If Joe and I had “planned” to get pregnant versus our current “oops-a-daisy” philosophy of conception. How would I be different if we had waited? How will my kids’ lives be different because I was in the place that I was when I had them?

I feel like we, you and I, are in this interesting place, right? Like what if we had met when I was first born? Maybe you would’ve sucked. Maybe now– you’re older, have kids and a wife, presumably a job, maybe even a house– you’re in the right place to have me.

But maybe it’ll never be and would never have been the right time, the right you. Maybe there’d never have been a right me for my kids.

But then I think of all that “you’re the perfect mom/dad for your kids” stuff you hear (has anyone else heard that? And it’s almost always “mom” and not “dad.”). How the hell does that play into all of this? Sometimes one is a sucky parent who is emphatically not the perfect parent for one’s child. That does happen, doesn’t it? So maybe you suck; or maybe I really suck. (I don’t. I’m a good parent, really.)

Man, maybe you really, really, truly do suck. Maybe you are a giant asshole who I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid. Maybe you belong to a cult. Or are just a creep. What kind of pain am I willing to put myself through in trying to figure out who my father is?



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