From the Let’s Get Real Department, Father’s Day Files. If there was one thing we got right in my former marriage, it was adopting the boyo. Good times and bad, my ex pushed me to become a dad and I’ll always be grateful for that. We took foster parent classes, but there’s no real manual on how to do this job, whether the children come via birth or through other means. It was my stepfather, the shining knight example of manhood, who taught me how to love another person’s kid, and I have had a deep 16-year bond with my son because of it.

At least through his tweens, there wasn’t a day he and I weren’t at each other’s sides doing everything together. It was instant love between us and no matter the turmoil we’ve been through later in our lives, I never question his loyalty to me and I can see the dawning inside of him just who has had his back all these years. We all have, as his family, but at the core, it’s been me and him, BOND.

Fatherhood hasn’t been easy. It’s been downright painful and thankless at times. Dads aren’t perfect. Dads blow their lids. Dads screw up. Dads can only keep their armor polished and dent-free for so long until they learn to keep the tarnish and the dings as badges of honor. If dads take the job seriously, they love their kids more than themselves. They want the happiness of their kids more than their own. No matter the pushbacks, no matter the backtalk, the fights against ill-founded superiority complexes shot at them from their charges. Fathers see the endgame and if they’re worth anything, they want their children to win it faster than themselves.

I love my kids, including my new adult stepchildren who’ve only known me a short time in whatever capacity they need me to be. I know this is a day they miss their dad as much as I miss my blood father, flawed and occasionally abusive as he could be. Their dad would be as proud of them as I am.

My dad loved me more than anyone on this planet and his good deeds superseded his faults, which I was able to philosophically put together down the road. My stepfather, Pop, and I have had nothing short of a “My main man” kind of father-son relationship, and I can think of no finer dude I’ve ever known. He and I once had a man-to-man sit-down at the same age my son is now, and that remains one of my happiest memories with Pop. We toasted as men do (I’ll leave you to make your inferences on what that entailed) and b.s.’d for hours that day.

I needed that chat with a father who showed me he understood me, accepted me as a man and wanted to see me rise above the things that were dragging me down. One week ago, I re-enacted the entire thing for my own son. Man-to-man, at the kitchen table (again, leaving you to infer as you will) since my son has known great pain of his own as much as he’s made terrible mistakes. That was a day to put it all on the table with minimal lecturing and an open-door policy to speak our minds. Above all, it was to acknowledge the kid’s manhood as Pop did for me. Thus far, it’s been a game changer. For us both.

To all my brothers of the cause out there, a Happy Father’s Day to you. I still have an unexplainable shakiness to being celebrated every June as a dad, but I’ve done nothing less than take the role I was handed with full commitment. TJ has been an amazing partner to me in all things, inclusive of passing her knowledge and having the courage not only to be his stepmom, but to keep me on track with him. I get exhausted, I get burned-out. Sometimes my aspirations cloud my day-to-day. Eye on the prize, getting this young man to reach his destiny, whatever he chooses that to be. A good father needs a good mother to keep him strong and sane, and I have that.

At the end of our man-to-man, my son challenged me to a future Spartan race once he gets himself entrenched in the military. He joked how he would probably wipe me out once he has his training, since the primary reason of my fitness crusade has ALWAYS been to inspire him before others. I think the plot worked over time, and I told him, “I accept your challenge and when that day comes, we’ll start the heat together and don’t you worry about getting a lead on me. In fact, go hard, go fast. Dust me and don’t look back. I’ll find you at the finish line.”

–Ray Van Horn, Jr.