Once, when I was a kid, about five or so, my uncle and cousin and I were at my grandparent’s house in Plainview, Texas. I think it must have been my cousin’s birthday or something because he had gotten a new toy and the three of us were in the front yard with it. The toy was one of those nerf frisbees that was all floppy and made of this thin rubbery stuff. I remember thinking it was the coolest thing and I wanted to touch it so badly just to see what it felt like. As the three of us stretched out in the yard forming a big triangle to pass the frisbee, my cousin threw it to his dad and my uncle threw it back to his son and this went on for some time. I’m sure that I was being somewhat obnoxious because I was just dying to have a turn. Finally after several minutes I asked my uncle “Uncle Doug? How come you don’t throw it to me?” To this he replied “Because you’re not my son.”

It’s weird to me that I remember this because, after all, it was just a stupid frisbee. But this memory has stuck with me now for over twenty years and it’s still pretty painful. At the age of five my father had only been dead for about three years and my grandmother had an aneurism and was very sick. She died within the year. It was a very hard time for my family. I think that that’s why I was in Plainview, because my mom was with my nana in the hospital and I had been staying with my cousin’s family for a while. I was too young at the time to understand the ramifications of these deaths that my family, specifically my mother, had endured in such a short span of years. Both deaths were very traumatic in their own ways, as all deaths are I guess, being that my father had taken his own life one night and left us very suddenly and my nana had gotten very sick and died slowly in front of our eyes. My mom was close to the same age that I am now and I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose two of, perhaps the two, most important people in her life. But it has taken many years for me to make that connection. I didn’t see it back then and, to be honest, I have little to no memory of the details of that time of my life other than that stupid frisbee. I think that the frisbee incident was the first time that my young mind was able to really grasp the fact that I didn’t have a dad. To grasp the fact that my cousin, Nathan, had a dad but I didn’t and never would. Since then my relationship, if anyone can call it that, with my uncle Doug has never been much to speak of.

I read a book a couple of years back about growing up without a father. In the book the author said that man was not made with the ability to father another man’s child and I have to agree with that to some degree because I think that it’s possible that I wouldn’t make a very good stepdad. But, I have another uncle named Gary Don who married a woman and adopted and raised her two sons like they were his own. I don’t think that anyone would doubt that those boys are his sons and he loves them very deeply. As deeply as I imagine my father would have loved me. His sons are older than me and they have kids of their own now and Gary Don loves his grandchildren as deeply as any grandfather can love a child.

In some ways I think that growing up without a dad has served me well. I’m not talking about the ‘what if’ questions like if he had lived would we have moved to tyler and would I have met my wife and would my kids have been born. When I think about it on that level it was totally worth it. I’m more thinking about how I grew up with a single mother and as an only child and how that has served me well. I had a lot more adult type interaction as a child and I grew really close to my mom because we were all each other had. Somehow that helped me develop into a more mature minded young person although I still did a bunch of dumb stuff. As a child, I was still very interested in boy type stuff. I guess that it was just in the DNA but I think that I’m also pretty well-rounded when it comes to feminine things, you know sensitivity and all that kind of crap, because I spent my entire childhood and a good portion of my adult life surrounded by women. After I moved out on my own, I got married and had two daughters. My other family that I married into is also comprised of mostly women. My mother-in-law is also single and she has two daughters, my wife Amy and my sister-in-law Jennie. So you see, I’ve been living in ‘lady land’ for most of my life. I think I can credit my keen fashion sense to this. You know, which flannel (winter time) or t-shirt (summer time) goes better with my blue jeans and sneakers and that sort of thing. I can also credit my strong foundation on the feminine fundamentals to this, such as my extensive knowledge of hair conditioners and how they can make my beard look nice and shiny and full.

I have a son now. His name is Noah and he’ll turn four years old soon. The other day I had a very important fatherly talk with him about the two ways that one may wear a ball cap. Frontwards or backwards. (Every time I see someone with a ball cap on sideways I have this overwhelming urge to walk up to them and tap them on the shoulder and say “Excuse me but, did you know that your hat is crooked? You’re welcome.”) It was a very proud moment in my life as a dad. I imagine myself in years to come showing him how to get in front of the baseball to field a grounder. I’ll teach him how to round first base so he can keep his speed when he’s hit a double. I’ll show him how a real man shakes hands, firm and confident and looking the other person in the eye. I’ll teach him to always say yes sir or ma’am and no sir or ma’am. I’ll teach him to always open the door for a lady and to compliment her on how pretty she looks. I’ll teach him to work hard. And when the time comes, I’ll teach him to shave with the grain unless of course he wants a beard and then I’ll show him the correct portion of conditioner to use to make his beard look superb. I’ll teach him to always throw the frisbee to his sister’s kid. And most important of all, I’ll teach him to love Jesus.