The Twelve Days of Christmas - My Two Dads

                                                                                                                                           Photo credit Ricardo Moura

​Years ago, there was a television show called My Two Dads. I must admit that I never watched it, and I don't know what it was about, but the title always stuck with me because that was me. I had two dads.

I was born out of wedlock in the early 1960s. It wasn't a good time in history for a young woman to fall pregnant and have a baby without being married. There was plenty of judgement and shame that accompanied unwed mothers. It turned out that I was given for adoption, but I was adopted into my own blood family. My biological uncle adopted me. He was my birth mother's older brother. He died long ago, but today, December 21, was his birthday.

Interestingly, my biological parents were very much in love but were young and scared and possibly acted irrationally about their situation. They did not get married. I never heard the story of their youthful love affair or knew my birth father's family until many years later. My birth father is also deceased, and the cosmic part is that he died on December 21.

There is no coincidence. We are inexplicably intertwined. This is real-life magic.

Today I honour my two dads. One I loved dearly, and one I never met, but I know him in ways I can't explain.
​
That's it for today. Have yourself the best day. I'll speak to you again tomorrow.

TJCorman