Its been a ridiculously tough year. And it just got more emotionally painful.
Friday, November 18, 2016 at 2:30am a family member died. His name was John Johnson. He was the husband to Mikio, and adopted father to my daughter Lily. He was a goofy man who’s heart was full of love and light. He was tender, silly, and an absolutely wonderful father.
My husband and I just aren’t the kind of people that should be parents. Knowing this is a deeply painful thing to admit, but as we were in that situation at the time, we recognized that there are people that are meant to be loving parents. So it was going to be our honor to give them the gift they so desperately wanted. We set out specifically to find a gay couple too as we know that those couples fight even harder to make a family in this messed up country of hate and selfishness. Our standards were simple: they had to have been together longer than 5 years, and were financially stable to provide for her. The agency sent us flyers of potential couples and we shifted through them. I narrowed it down to two flyers; one of them was the one Mikio had done up to look like the magazine that he works for. In January of 2009, we made arrangements to meet them. They were the only couple we would meet. That meeting was amusing and we left with zero doubts that they were the right people to raise our daughter. They agreed to an open adoption, which means that we have access to our daughter’s life and she has access to us. She knows who we are and what we are to her. She calls me mommy too. When she was born, John embodied the befuddled new dad stereotype. He was afraid to hold her for fear of dropping her. He was already telling bad dad jokes too. I recently started joking that he was would be the real life version of Ty Burell’s character on “Modern Family” by trying to be The Cool Dad. He was supposed to be the dad she rolls her eyes at and groans at how dorky he is.
But that isn’t going to happen. His heart broke and now he’s gone. My little girl is going to grow up without one her daddies.
Every now and again, my mind wanders over to memories of his smile or mannerisms. It begins to hurt when I think of her. I won’t be able to fly out there as school and finances are barriers. I may be on vacation this week, but I’ve got school work to do and stuff around the house that has been piling up that needs to be done. I’d probably make a trip out there in January before my classes start up again.
I want to hug my little girl and her papa. Apparently, she’s being the strong one. She’s the one comforting the adults. When hubby spoke with her, she said, “Don’t cry. Daddy’s in a better place now.” That’s my girl.