Webb: A birthday memory of my daughter and the old man’s impact

This blog was written on July 3, 2019, my 43rd birthday. It was really a birthday only in that I was born on July 3. We didn’t celebrate, at my request. I was in mourning, watching my dad fade away rather quickly. He died a little more than a month later.

My wife did the best she could that day, buying me much-needed shoes and making her famous vegan pumpkin pie, which I ate at least half of. That morning, as Dad had done for decades, he called and sang “Happy Birthday.” Today, I miss that call a great deal.

That said, as Dad was leaving us for the next life, the parenting he passed on was starting to make an impact. My stepdaughter and I were growing closer. A few weeks later, she asked to visit my father one last time. I was touched, and so was my father.

Fast-forward a year: Molly lives with us full-time. In the past year, I helped her navigate choosing a college. We visited several. We talked about the pluses and minuses of each. We analyzed the finances. As if God or Dad were watching … Molly choose Mizzou.

Recently, my wife and I have been teaching Molly how to drive. The kid is probably really tired of hearing the nuggets of wisdom my dad passed on during those lessons. If she is, though, she isn’t saying it.

I’m sharing this now not only because it was written on my birthday last year, but also to continue to celebrate the legacy my father left. I miss him every day, but more on days like today that he was such an important part of making great.

My stepdaughter texted me “I love you” this morning after wishing me a happy birthday. That may not sound like much or uncommon, but in my little world, it’s a huge deal. And it’s the best birthday present I could have asked for.

It’s not that we haven’t gotten along in the years since her mother and I started dating. It’s just that we really didn’t talk that much for several years, and I take the blame for that.

When my wife and I started dating at the beginning of 2011, I figured the middle child, my youngest stepson, would take me right in. I wasn’t sure about the oldest son, who is high-functioning autistic. I remember telling my wife that her daughter might be difficult to win over.

That wasn’t necessarily the case the at first. In fact, I can remember a time shortly after moving in with my future wife that I tucked my stepdaughter in, gave her a hug and got an “I love you.” That was nearly eight years ago.

The longer we lived together, the more comfortable I was saying anything I wanted to. That included the occasional disparaging remark about the kids’ biological father. Talk about your classic rookie mistakes.

Despite that, the boys and I grew close. The oldest son embraced me because I advocated, rather fiercely, for his independence. It was me who convinced my wife to let him walk around the mall by himself during his freshman year of high school. Now, he walks from our house to Wanamaker and back several times a week.

The youngest son and I have always gotten along because we have so much in common, from the dry sense of humor to gaming. Naturally, he’s also the one I’ve disciplined at least 10 times as much.

For several years, however, I didn’t connect with my stepdaughter. We weren’t rude to each other. I can’t recall ever getting on her case, mostly because she’s a wonderful kid. But the conversations about life were few and far between.

As she grew up and became a lovely young woman, we started to talk a little more. I volunteered to drive her back home from Topeka a few times just to talk. We bonded over beating her mother at Uno. We laughed together watching “It.”

Finally, several years too late, I kicked my pride to the curb and talked to her about some of the things I’d said in the past. I apologized for saying things I shouldn’t have about her father. 

I’ve also helped her in the process of picking a college. It helps to have a stepdad who works in higher ed. In the past three years, we’ve visited the University of Michigan and LSU. For a while, she LOVED the University of Central Florida. I scored some stepdad cred during a trip to Orlando by spending an afternoon there, including buying a T-shirt.

These are all things any decent stepdad should do, of course. It’s been easy because she’s such a great kid. Smart, strong, funny, caring. She reminds me of her mother more and more every day.

Getting an “I love you” text meant so much because it reminded me of the relationship I had with my dad. He did not have it easy growing up. The affection and “I love yous” were few and far between. In fact, even though he and his father were close, Dad said the first time her heard his father say those three words was the week before he unexpectedly died from a heart attack.

My dad took a different route as a parent than what he grew up with. There was never a wrong time for a hug, or even a kiss up until we were of “that” age. He never missed an opportunity tell my brother and I that he loved us.

I hope I can be that good of a dad. Hearing those three no-so-little words makes me think I’m on the right track.