Mr. Paul

There are a lot of types of Fathers.  There are Dads, Daddies, Papas, Fathers, etc.  You get it.  Today, the focus turns to Stepdads.  But not really.  The focus here is going to be my stepdad.  Or even more specifically,

Mr. Paul.

The reason for focusing on such a specific subtype is because he isn’t a substitute dad or a replacement or average.  He’s the only one I’ve had and the only one I really want.  He’s been here for over half of my life, toughing it out through my pubescent years (yikes) and bravely forging a way through my diagnosis.  The man is contrary, intelligent, sarcastic, steadfast, loyal and more.

Mr. Paul taught me how to ride a bike.  He taught me to mountain bike, has fixed my computer, has made vacations happen… he even went spelunking with me, even though it made him kind of nervous.  We’ve also argued about how to read a map (which is still hysterical to me).  Since January, we’ve become closer, discussing much and laughing over more, mostly when nobody else is around.   He takes phenomenal care of me, makes amazing coffee, and drives the chair magnificently.

Paul is family first.

Paul is a hard worker.

Paul is a researcher.

Paul is… well, he’s amazing.

And he ours.  He makes us all smile.  And laugh.

And he means a whole helluva lot to me.

Happy Birthday, DP.  I love you.