cabenson | (no subject)

When I was eight years old, my dad (Daddy #1 for those playing the home edition) taught me how to make the perfect pancake. Add a touch of vanilla to the batter, don't over-mix, pour slowly onto the griddle, and patiently wait until the surface was covered with bubbles before flipping.

Throughout my 40-some years, Dad has taught me many wonderful lessons, the most important that you don't need a genetic connection to be considered family. When I was 14 years old, amidst a serious health scare, I learned that Dad was not my biological father. I was crushed. We had a wonderful chat about family and how much we loved each other, and that was really all either of us ever needed to say on the subject. I know that every good thing, little as it may be, that comes out of me is because of him. I get my hair and my wit and my Irish temper from my mother. I get my height and my green eyes from Daddy #3 (the biological father). But I get my wisdom and my desire to treat people well from my Dad. And in my book, that is the greatest gift a parent could give a child.

Dad called me last night to tell me he was having a heart cath today. I just got a call from my stepmom that they are scheduling hi for open-heart surgery tomorrow up in Toledo. And I cannot be there until Sunday evening because it is my weekend to work. One co-worker unexpectedly lost her brother last weekend; another just put her father in hospice care.

So if you are the praying sort, please throw one our way, if you could. We would appreciate it dearly...