I'm not the only kid in the world who grew up without a father. The truth is, I had one – he just wasn't around much, and when he was, he wasn't particularly interested in "Dad"-type things.
Although I don't think he intended to be the sort of father he was, I ended up pretty much without one.
Something was missing, terribly, but I didn't know what it was.
All I knew was that I would occasionally mist up if I saw a father playing with his daughter in a park, or that I felt a deep, gut-wrenching longing watching the dad of a family I babysat for take care of his daughter.
Growing up, I used to observe my friends' fathers carefully. They were like exotic birds – strange and alien, but sort of oddly beautiful. There was something more settled and more secure when they were around, and even when they weren't around, the sense of comfort remained.
My next-door neighbors' father was always barking at them to do their chores, and their mother was always threatening to tell their father if they did something wrong. Even though he intimidated me, I envied them. They had discipline and learned self-restraint, dignity, and control. Their world was a safer place than mine.
When I was 11, my parents separated. Besides the legal partisan warfare and some financial shifts, my father's moving out of the house didn't have much of an impact on me. It wasn't until a year or so later that I felt the impact: My mother started to date.
Not too long after, I acquired something new: Jim.
Jim was the first guy my mother dated after my dad. We actually already knew him; he and his ex-wife had been members of the same synagogue as my family prior to their divorce several years before and his daughter had been a friend of mine when I was younger.
I remember, at 10 or so, how he would dutifully roll up (in the boat-like white sedan I would eventually come to know so well) two or three times a week to spirit her off for father-daughter time. And I would wonder to myself, what did fathers and daughters do?
Then, all of a sudden, a few years later, there Jim was in my house, with his big feet parked on my mother's coffee table, the sort of drinks he likes in the fridge, and – my ears! my ears! – Country music tapes stuffed into the living room stereo.
The next few years were open warfare. My brother and I resented the sudden realignment, and his daughter – my friend – wasn't so fond of her new step-mother either. The Brady Bunch we weren't.
He was like a big pillar stuck by some non-aesthetically concerned architect in the middle of a room. I didn't much like it, but I had to admit that it was holding up a lot.
Jim? I couldn't stand him.
It's a funny thing, though. Throughout high school, in between the huge blowouts or battles we'd have that lasted for weeks, Jim and I had some sort of strange friendship. He was like a big pillar stuck by some non-aesthetically concerned architect in the middle of a room. I didn't much like it, but I had to admit that it was holding up a lot.
When I was a nervous wreck the morning I started high school, Jim sat at the breakfast table and listened to me worry that I would be lost at the big school. My mother cooed soothingly, but he helpfully suggested that I affect a colossal limp and exaggerated lisp in order to distinguish myself from the masses. Later in the day, I stood in line at the intimidatingly large bookstore with a smile on my face – remembering his gimpy march around the kitchen.
When my mother's nerves were too frayed to handle teaching me to drive, it was Jim who bravely climbed into the car (and, unlike my mother, didn't repeatedly stomp a ghost brake on the passenger's side floor). It was particularly impressive, considering that we probably argued half the ride.
I resented my friends for liking him, although it wasn't surprising. His sense of humor is like no other – caustic, pointed, and clever beyond words. He has a way of talking to everyone – especially kids – that makes them feel comfortable, recognized, seen.
My mother is one of the most overwhelmingly affectionate people on the face of the earth; she can make anyone feel like the most important person in the world. Jim's energy is different – he doesn't overflow with sweetness (to the contrary, his charm is best described as Walter Matthau-esque), but his humor is a force powerful enough that everyone wants to be around him – if only to hear what he might say next.
He could hold forth on pretty much anything, especially when it came to anything Jewish. He and my mother shared a bedrock devotion to their faith, people, and country. I inherited my mother's emotional, gut-level ties to Judaism, but I passively imbibed Jim's political tirades, cultural exegesis, and ornery rants about whatever issue was on his mind. Our constant battling ensured that I really thought through whatever positions I was taking; Jim made me think.
The only thing he is more loyal to than the Jewish people, I suppose, is his family. Looking back, with all the clashes we caused and participated in, I see that he and my mother had a similar approach to their children: a feral kind of love. And a lot of the tension between us stemmed from his fury at the disrespectful way I would sometimes treat my mother.
Through his forceful love and loyalty, I saw that a father's fierce devotion is just different than that of a mother's. (And that's why kids need both.)
The truth is, even though we spent a decade or so clashing on and off, I always liked Jim (when I didn't hate him). And though I never would have admitted it, I was insanely jealous of his devotion to my step-sister. By the time we'd all mellowed out, that friendship stayed – as did the respect.
Jewish tradition commands us to respect (or even fear) our mothers and love our fathers. The Sages explain that the Torah phrases it that way because it's a natural thing to love our mothers, whereas we need to work on the respect part. But we naturally respect our fathers.
Fathers give us a place in the world.
Fathers, somehow, put us on the right course. Sociologist Judith Wallerstein has shown that only half of the boys she followed in a study of divorced families completed college. Some 40% drifted through life, out of school and unemployed.
In a 1987 study for the University of Michigan, Neil Kalter, Ph.D. found that girls from divorced families had a harder time developing a sense of being valued as a female: they missed out on the day to day experience of interacting with a man who is attentive, caring and loving.
Fathers give us a place in the world.
Once, when my mother was out of town, Jim joined me and some friends for Shabbat dinner. At the evening's end, a friend's husband, who knew my family history but hadn't met Jim, said, "Wow, it's so funny that you don't look like your father but you're so much like him."
"That's Jim," I said, "not my father."
He was shocked. "But your humor, your worldview… you're so much alike."
And he's right.
The values I use to guide my life come directly from Jim. The way I look at the world comes from Jim. Even whatever sense of humor I have… it's all from Jim.
Even though I will never know what it is to grow up with the sort of paternal devotion and concern that my step-sisters did, and I still get a little misty watching my male friends take loving care of their daughters, Jim managed to give me something else.
A few months ago, he had a brief medical scare and I guess it made him somewhat philosophical. We were chatting on the phone and his voice suddenly dropped.
"I just want to tell you something," he said, in a strange tone of voice. "I think you already know this, but I want to say it anyway."
I wondered where on earth he was going…
"I just want to say that, if, God forbid, anything ever happened to your mother… you know that I would still be here, right?"
I started blinking hard.
"I would always be here, and be a part of your life."
I nodded into the phone.
He will always be in my life, always there for me. And I will always respect him, and be grateful for all that he gave and taught me.
"I love you," he croaked out.
"I know," I said, quietly. "I love you, too."
Please pray for the well-being of Yaakov ben Devorah
(33) Anonymous, June 26, 2010 12:54 PM
why wasn't he cloned
my father rejected me and so did my mother. i was reared by a loving grandmother who died when i was 13. what i fell into upon her death was a preview of hell, i went to live w an oppressive stepfather and a mentally unstable mother. there was no one to trust , no one who show consideration or respect. abuse in its worst forms took place. i wondered why this had to happen to me. then i read that we heed everything that happens to us. and then i also started to wonder where GOD WAS when so many things happened to me. why didnt GOD ALLOW me to have a good father or stepfather? then it dawned on me, that throughout my life all the suffering helped me become a child of GOD. HE IS MY FATHER. Thru AISH i discovered HE'S BEEN WATCHING OVER ME AND KEPT EVIL AT BAY MANY TIMES. AND I ALSO LEARNED THAT GOD HAS NO STEPCHILDREN. WE ARE ALL HIS KIDS.
(32) ladydi, June 21, 2010 5:05 PM
step-fathers
My biological dad left my mom with 5 children, ranging from 8 yrs to 3 weeks old for another woman. My mom remarried a few years later to a wonderful man who raised all of us as "his own". He's not my blood dad, but hes my dad in my heart. He unexpectently passed away 7 years ago and the ache in my heart will never end....I miss him terribly. Thank you, dad, for your love and guidance.
(31) Emily Armstrong, June 20, 2010 2:59 PM
Step father; step grandmother
My step father was one who caused my mother to take her own life. Needless to say, I did not think much of him, but was fortunate enough to have a loving, caring and sweet step grandmother, so God closed one door and opened another. We all are not fortunate in certain areas, but he makes up for it in others. God Bless her today; and because we must forgive all who have harmed us in life, God Bless him today. Most of all God Bless my real father who died in 1944.
(30) Batsheva, June 20, 2010 2:57 PM
Very moving!
What a lovely article. My own step-father is my "dad." Although my biological father has always been an important part of my life, he lived in another state, and my step-father raised me since I was one. My step-father has always loved my brothers and I like his own daughters. He is an amazing role in every way instilling in us the importance of our strong Jewish identitiy and love for Israel and all of the Jewish people. I will always be grateful to Hashem for putting him in all of our lives and making my mother so happy!
(29) Super-Step-Daughter, June 18, 2010 4:22 AM
my step-dad is awesome
so fathers day is coming around and i just got my ''dad' his fav candy a nice card and a balloon he LOVED it.
(28) Embi, June 25, 2008 8:04 PM
What a wonderful tribute!
Raising any child, let alone a step-child, can be hard and often thankless work. I hope this article brings Jim much naches. He may not have been your biological father, but at the end of the day he helped raise you and make you the person you are today.
(27) Anonymous, June 18, 2008 10:54 AM
Similar Story
My story is very much like yours. My parents divorced when I was 11, and my mother remarried when I was 15. Although I pretty much liked my stepfather from the begining, I gave him a really hard time at first. I'd insult him and march out of the room, and throughout it all, he never snapped back or got angry. I came around and I've come to feel so grateful for his faithfulness, day in and day out, a kind of consistency and security my own father didn't provide, although I love him dearly, too. My mother, my sister and I are truly fortunate for having this man in our lives.
(26) Anonymous, June 16, 2008 7:47 PM
have a hard time with mother and father's day
I've always had a hard time with mother and father day even though I dutifully send them cards. The
(25) Ester, June 16, 2008 1:59 PM
To Anonymous 6/15/2008 10:38:00 AM
Maybe your wonderful stepdad is Hashem's messenger for you to make peace with your mom. Unless she's an abuser, she's entitled by Torah to your fullest respect and obedience, whether you like her or not. We're not commanded to love our parents, only to respect and fear them.
(24) Robert Tepper, June 15, 2008 7:51 PM
Fathers Day was a day I always dreaded.
I was brought up by a single mom till I became a dad I always think of those that lost their Dads , always think of those that hate their Dads Always think of those that may never be Dads Always know there is someone out there in need, to be lifted up mentored or loved. My lesson of growing up in a single parent home is that with loss or suffering teaches the meaning of self reliance and responsibility builds character and personality earlier in life and whether one completes college or not or helps support their family at an early age provides a sense of urgency and reverence for productivity and life. I have 98.6 degrees and will treat others with the same regard. To Life a meaningful one!
(23) bernie siegel, June 15, 2008 4:03 PM
chosen dads
a suicidal young woman, who is alive today because i showed her she was worth loving, said to me, you are my CD. what is that? my Chosen Dad. so i have saved lives and brought love to many by being their chosen dad and they are a gift in my life too.
(22) Anonymous, June 15, 2008 10:38 AM
beautiful
I used to have that with my step dad- he married my mother when I was 8 and at first he was the best thing to happen to us and our shattered family. now, I am 21 years old and unfortunatly things are not so great- he resents me in a lot of ways, including the fact that he and my mother fight almost always. its a tragedy, but really who knows why Hashems planned this for me? this article is beautiful though.
(21) Marion, June 15, 2008 8:48 AM
Uh!
Uh! What can I say? How fortunate Rebecca is that her mother made a very wise choice. Good for you Rebecca!
(20) Anonymous, June 15, 2008 8:29 AM
beautiful
beautiful!
(19) Espie, April 2, 2008 11:09 PM
Glad some woman are fortunate
Unfortunately for my now 20 and 16yr. old boys, I didn't make the best choice.We've lived with a man for over 9yrs. now and all he has for my boys is resentment.............I've failed miserably at what was most important to me.
(18) Rachel, April 10, 2007 7:08 PM
stumbled upon your stepdad article accidentally love to read more of your writing
Great reading
(17) Steve, August 9, 2006 12:00 AM
Thanks!
As I'm about to embark on the life of Jim, I really needed to hear that...she has a 12 yr old son, a passive
(16) mandy, October 28, 2005 12:00 AM
this is sooo cute
(15) Anonymous, September 27, 2005 12:00 AM
Great article
I grew up in a simular situation. My parents did not divorce until I was 19, but my Father was hardly there for me. I am now 37 and married with 2 step sons that I have been raising for 4 years and it is the greatest thing that has happened to me. The most important thing in my life right now is my wifes well being and also our children.
(14) Anonymous, March 25, 2005 12:00 AM
you gave me hope.
reading through your article has really given me hope for future.i am in middle of a messy divorce and have a sensitive 8yr old son.i often wonder how he would cope,and if i would ever get out of the guilt of not being able to give him his 'own'father.i hope now...
(13) Ramona, June 27, 2004 12:00 AM
As a "stepmother" since 1984, this story moved me to tears. My husband died in 1993, and I know I instilled some values into my stepsons, as they were just teens. How nice to read that even with conflicts that come and go, Love does exist. Thank you for listening.
(12) Anonymous, June 22, 2003 12:00 AM
Thank you
Your article beautifully articulated many familiar experiences, I too resented my step-father for many years (I think I kind of felt in liking him I would betray my Dad, my Dad was a father and provider, but my step father the "Dad" I learnt many things from both, things that have patterned who I am today) To those step Dad's reading this, tenacity and deterimination - your efforts need to be applauded !
(11) Shoshana, June 20, 2003 12:00 AM
Thank you
Thank you for telling us your story.
I had goose-pums just by reading it.
It's true that a divorce isn't easy, neither for the parents, nor for the kids. And to 'accept' a "stranger" inside our family, that must be a strange sort of battle. A battle for both. For the "stranger" and for the "family" in which he's coming into.
In a modern society, it's good to review Torah basics!
It's true that a child needs both parents, that a mother and a father each contribute in a different way to the growth of the child, and it's also true that the mitsva of Kibud Av vaEm isn't always easy to fulfill.
I'm happy for you that your mother met a man who adapted well, understanding without condemning your reactions and critics, and considers you... as a daughter.
(10) Anonymous, June 17, 2003 12:00 AM
Very moving article - I had tears in my eyes at the end. Very well written
(9) Devora, June 17, 2003 12:00 AM
thank you
Thank you for a beautiful and very moving article.
(8) Keren, June 16, 2003 12:00 AM
Stepfather's are REAL fathers
My oldest daughter is 26 and getting married this summer. She and her "stepfather" had a similar rocky start to their relationship. She used to tell me that I didn't need her anymore because I had a "new" family. It hurt me a lot because she couldn't share my happiness.Well time changes everything and in August, my husband will be walking his "eldest daughter" down the aisle. She told me that she wouldn't have it any other way, because she knows now who her "real father" is now. We have truly become a complete family, due to the love, devotion, kindness, and patient of this wonderful man that I am married too.
(7) Anonymous, June 16, 2003 12:00 AM
Touching article
The writer is lucky that her stepfather was a patient man!
To one of your anonymous commentators:
We also seemed to have a lack of connection in our family between my father and his daughters (we had no brothers). I think that's one of the reaons I was so happy to have a boy and not a girl.
No wonder so many men crave sons.
(6) Robin, June 16, 2003 12:00 AM
I will give this to my Step-Dad.....
I am printing this out for Joe, my Step-Father. I do not think sometimes that he knows the wonderful impact he had on my life. Joe married my Mom when I was 8 years old. I also hated him, so I thought most of the time. Truth be know we he needed a kidney transplant and I was 21 years old, i wanted to be the first person to be tested. I was not a match, I still wish I could have been. Thank you so much for this article.
(5) Anonymous, June 16, 2003 12:00 AM
My daughter's father is not a part of her life. I will be saving this article for her to read. It brought tears to my eyes! I think that we will start calling Father's Day "Step-Parent's Day" around my house. Thanks for the idea!
(4) Anonymous, June 15, 2003 12:00 AM
Beautiful article
My daughter has a wonderful relationship with her step-father too. I will save this article and show it to her when she is older.
(3) Anonymous, June 15, 2003 12:00 AM
My husband could not relate
My husband, the father of our daughters, has never related to them. Our kids were always "women's business". Maybe if he reads this article he will see the value in being a role model and a friend to them.
(2) Anonymous, June 15, 2003 12:00 AM
Bravo!!!
What a beautiful article!!! This article brought tears to my eyes.
(1) Anonymous, June 13, 2003 12:00 AM
wonderful article
Very real--no stereotypes--not the Brady Bunch but love happens. Hats off to Rebecca for overcoming her difficult childhood and to her stepfather for hanging in there