If you remember the “My 3 Sons” sitcom, then like me, you are OLD. 😂
The show aired from 1950 – 1972. It represented just what the title said. A dad raising 3 sons. It was groundbreaking for the time. The idea of single parenthood was a new concept. Being a single parent wasn’t widely accepted. My 3 Sons bought a single dad with 3 sons right into our living rooms. My dad was nothing like that or the dad in the photo to the left. I never knew him; he was just a name on my birth certificate.
My uncle took me to my dad’s house when I was 19 years old. Unc went inside. I waited in the car. It took five minutes. Unc came out, started the car, and we drove off. We rode a couple blocks before he pulled over and stopped. My uncle turned to me and said words I can never forget.
In one breath, I was told this man who started my life wanted nothing to do with me. He vehemently denied that I DID NOT EXIST. I WASN’T HIS.
Mr. Maxwell entered my life when I was 15, I met him through my mom. He made me feel important and seen in a household that made me feel invisible. Mr. Maxwell was a Top-Tier Chef. He would bring home butterfly shrimp whenever we stayed over. He had good ‘Dad’ vibes.
Mr. Maxwell was there when my son was born and when I graduated high school. He was solid and dependable. After graduation, he invited me to dinner. We went to a nice upper-class restaurant and had a fabulous meal. That is when he told me that he and my mom were breaking up. I sensed that. They had been drifting apart. He said he wanted to date me. Here I am, thinking of this man as a Dad, and he was looking at me as a love interest. He wanted to know what I thought. I wasn’t even sure I had heard him. He rambled on about blah blah. So, he was breaking up with my Mom, hoping he could be with me instead.
Who Does THAT?!
My Spiritual Dad was a different Uncle. He was actually my great-uncle, but he loved me unconditionally. I could count on his quiet wisdom. We would talk for hours. He never told me what to do. We would talk until somehow I knew what to do. I always left feeling empowered.
Uncle J introduced me to church. He was an old-school praying deacon. He would visit us every weekend. He “sold” me his Chevy for $200 when I needed a car for work. His baby gift to my daughter was a muffin pan. My daughter has it 40 years later and uses it; I like to think that simple gift helped my daughter find baking to be the “Happy Place.” She was his “sweet child”.
This was a hard BLOG to write. This had me remember painful moments. It also helped me remember my Uncle J with a smile.
This Father’s Day, I invite my sisters to remember their biological dads, stepdads, spiritual fathers, and all the dads in between. Even if the memories bring some tears. 🫶🏽
We were all touched by the experience. The influence of dads, whether good or bad, morphed us into warriors, fierce, and above all, survivors. If you still have a dad with you, count your blessings and wish him the best on Happy Father’s Day.
🖤🖤🖤
