Having divorced parents has given me the chance to have someone in my life I can trust with my kids, with guidance and with an ear that will listen without judgement.
When I met my step-dad I was twelve. My mom met him at work and we went to car race at the nearest race track, something I didn’t know existed.
My step-dad has been there when my kids were born, at my wedding and has been someone that I know I could talk to, even when I was in high school.
Now that I’m older and have my own kids I think about the things he did for me when I was younger. He made sure we had a Christmas, even when he and my mom couldn’t really afford it.
He took responsibility for us when he didn’t have to and he’s someone that if I believed in heaven wouldn’t even have to give his name at that gate, it would be open when he arrived.
I haven’t asked him for things often as an adult, but he’s given me advice without my knowing it.
My Grandma called him St. Michael, because he put up with my mom.
He had two kids of his own when they started dating. His daughter–my stepsister–has become my sister without reservation. His son–my stepbrother– has become my big brother. We may not look alike, we may not share the same familial blood, but we are family.
His parenting style is something I’ve emulated. The man he was when I was growing up in Wyoming is the man I had around because I didn’t see my dad very often.
I’ve always believed the man you have in your life in your late teens is the man you’ll become as an adult. I hope that’s true.
Brian B. Baker is an unpublished writer of Science Fiction/Fantasy and Horror. He’s been writing short stories since high school, and is certain it’s one of the few things that keeps him sane. Brian blogs at The Bleeding Inkwell.