I Know Who My Dad Is

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My beginning was not planned. Not exciting either. I don’t blame my mother, though, for not being excited about being pregnant. I wouldn’t have been happy about it either. My mom was in college, in nursing school. She went out one night with friends. A guy gave her a ride home and on the way he raped her. She became pregnant with me. So my start was an unhappy one.


But thankfully my mom decided to keep me. For this I am very grateful and very much pro-life. My mom tells me that by the time I was born she was excited, though. This is very comforting of course. About eight months after I was born my mom went out with a friend that insisted she go out. That night my mom met Don. He was a student pilot doing his training at the Air Force Base just outside of town. The two of them met, liked each other, and began dating. By the second date my mom told Don about me. He was enthusiastic and wanted to meet me.


So mom brought him home and I, as an eight-month-old, liked him a lot. They got married pretty soon after that and still are after twenty-two years. I don’t know, have never known, never met my biological father. My mom had a college yearbook that had a photo of him in it. I looked at it maybe once. When I was about twelve I asked some questions about it, they had recently told me. They answered all my questions. And though I would like to know any important medical history I honestly don’t ever need more then what I know. I know that I am blessed to have Don, who of course I never call Don but always Dad. Because he is my dad in every single way. A few people have even said I look like him which makes me swell with happiness. I couldn’t have a better dad.

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