You didn’t make me.
You didn’t plan me nor was I a surprise.
You didn’t hold a loving hand out to feel me move around in my Mother’s tummy and marvel at the little feet you saw pressing out.
You didn’t wonder which part of your face would be present in mine.
You didn’t help paint my nursery and pretend to care about yellow or blue booties.
You didn’t make weary midnight snacks and dry pregnant tears for 9 months.
You didn’t feel the fear of childbirth and wonder how your woman found the strength to go through something so agonisingly life-changing and send prays to the sky for our safety.
None of this you did.
What you did do is something far more amazing.
You chose me.
You chose to love another man’s child as though she were your own.
The love you felt for my Mother was so very all consuming that it spilled out – and over – and made enough for me.
More than enough.
Without the bond most Father’s begin this journey with, you came along and fast-tracked through the realms of love and took me in as a part of you.
And I have been there ever since
To the Dad who chose me
Happy Father’s Day
Copyright LPIO 2017