Luck?

I'm finding words hard tonight. This is not the norm for me. Not knowing where to begin, I'll let some photos help set the stage.

 

Photo #1: This is my Dallin tonight...

 

 

Photo #2: This is a new addition to my fridge...

 

 

Photo #3: Here's yet another picture to help depict what Eva was going for in the previous drawing...

 

 

There's a deep story at play here. One that the curtain may not fall on for quite sometime. It began long ago, nearly 2 years by my staggering realization, and it is still in play. Its' characters are still weaving an intricate dance and song that is, ironically and hilariously, unscripted.

 

Setting the stage: take one single mom with oodles of baggage and her achingly mature daughter. Add a dashing, bear-ish, previously homeless mountain man. Combine them all with a surprise bear cub, a new puppy and a 5 bedroom home in a new town. Challenge them to become instantaneous family! Challenge accepted? Great. Aaaaaand there's our story.

 

Believe you me, we are definitely making this one up as we go along.

 

A lot of the time, things go well. Stupidly well. Amazingly well. Other times, there is a conflict raging in this house with each character vying viciously for center stage. As you can tell in photo #2, one mature daughter at times can be sweet and thoughtful to her new Daddy - given that she is as new to being a daughter to him as he is a father to her. Other times, not so much. I sit on the sidelines and I watch, my hands and mouth tied - sometimes by will and sometimes not.

 

Most times I am in awe of the impossibility of the task I have placed upon Dallin's shoulders.

 

Scratch that - -

 

Most times I am in awe of the impossibility of the task Dallin has taken on.

 

Dallin is no doubt nodding in appreciation to that particular edit.

 

Becoming a dad is a hard journey. One that should start the moment the doctor places that screaming infant in your arms, bloody and quivering from its' complex spiral into living, and doesn't end far past and beyond all of the 'firsts'; first smile, first crawl, first steps, first words, first day of school, first day of college.... Throughout this journey a foundation is forged that is intangible and unconquerable.  Dallin and Remington have begun that journey together and it is nothing short of glorious to witness. They have a natural rhythm to the dance that is, and will be, their relationship, even in these early months. I have not been lucky enough to witness this magnificent yet nondescript passage that Father and Child embark upon. With Eva's fathers' absence at such a young age, this bond that Remy and Dallin are in the process of creating is a foreign and beautiful thing to me - as magical and illusory as having a pair of unicorns in my midst.

 

Now, imagine the attempt of forging this same bond with a child smack dab in the middle of  their most impressionable years.

 

I overheard a conversation the two of them shared today and felt as though I snuck into a sweet secrecy between them. I hold it close to my heart, along with my hope for the future. Their precious words gave a glimmer - no, more than a glimmer, a beam! - of hope in an otherwise scene mired in despair.

 

Dallin: " Eva, sometimes we have a hard time listening to each other, don't we?"

Eva: "Yeah.... I'm sorry, Daddy."

Dallin: "It's okay, but maybe we should have a word that we can say when we feel the other person isn't listening?"

Eva: "I don't know... like what?"

Dallin: "Like... Mario cart. Or pickles."

Eva, giggles: "Yeah! Pickles."

Dallin: "Okay, pickles? Okay. So if I don't feel like you're hearing me, or if you don't feel like I'm hearing you, we can say pickles and that means the other person needs to remember to listen."

Eva: "Okay, Daddy."

 

That beam of hope became white hot and searing in my heart and I was filled with love for these two!

 

Not wishing to put words into Dallin's mouth, as I shouldn't speak too much of the difficulty that he is facing. I mean only to express the appreciation and utter marvel I feel flood over me when I watch Dallin and all that he does. He does everything so HARD. He works hard. Plays hard. Teases hard. Lives hard. Loves hard. With Father's Day on the brink, I feel compelled to express just how incredible his every act is. I am proud to be his partner, proud that he has taken on all of this (whatever this really IS, exactly).

 

I have felt my heart expand exponentially in ways I didn't think possible. This patched together family is an inconceivable enchantment that I cherish.

 

Which brings me to the title of this post. Luck? Has it all been luck? Am I simply 'lucky' to have magically found a 21-year old man, after years of searching who is the missing piece of my soul, whom in which I find my greatest friend, my closest partner and my deepest confidant? I can't believe that. The years between us alone laugh in the face of luck. How is it that he was molded to take this - all of this! - on? What served him as experience in his short years? What keeps him from throwing up his hands, exasperated and drained, and giving up? Grown men have done the same - my childs' own father has done the same!

 

I don't know that I believe in luck.

 

Yet, I don't know that I believe in fate.

 

What I do know is this - I feel inadequate to enjoy the life that I do with the dear souls that surround me in the form of my daughter, my son, and nearly most of all, my dear Dallin.