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How I Met My Father
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads that stepped up and were there for their kids, and never, ever, stopped trying to make boys into good men.
It’s been 12 years since I’ve hugged my dad. So, this challenge is a great way to honor him, and even though I might get close, I’ll not be able to do him justice.
It was the summer of 1981 when I met my dad. I was 9 when we met. My mom had a date, and my brother and I were supposed to stay with a sitter. When that didn’t work out, he decided we should come along.
We went to a place called Pizza House and enjoyed pizza and sodas. He and my mother carried on about whatever it was adults talked about in 1981. Jim, as we were introduced, asked if we wanted to go to a carnival. Of course, we did. We were 9 and 7 so this was all new and especially exciting.
It didn’t take long for my dad to be around all the time. He and my mom hit it off and he was really cool to us kids. Sure, there were some hiccups along the way that first few months. It didn’t take long before he and my mom talked about getting married. That leads to awkward family meetings. It’s a fond memory.