Who are our fathers and mothers?

This is something that I've been thinking a lot about lately. In fact, I've done a lot of thinking about this over the course of my life. As an adopted person, I frequently wonder about who my parents were. Did my biological mother even know who the biological father was? Could it have been one of a number of people? In the Sixties, there was some experimentation with free love in hippie society, and when people experiment with relationships, this kind of uncertainty can definitely be introduced. Maybe she couldn't really tell without DNA testing, which wasn't available in 1967. Truth be told, I have no idea: I was adopted as an infant, so I never knew her.

Because I am adopted, I have a lot of deeply felt emotion regarding these people, my bio-mom and bio-dad; but it is so deep that it has taken years of introspection and therapy to get through to it, and I really don't want this to be a post about my biological parents. (I've done that, here. It's very emotional and very intense, so you've been warned.)

So, who are my father and mother?

One theory is, "My father and mother are the people who are biologically related to me." Well, that is true in a scientific sense, I suppose. But those people, whomever they are, had very little to do with the person I would later become.

Another theory is, "My father and mother are the people who cared for me and adopted me. The people who reared me." And that is true too, very true. More true perhaps than the first idea. My adopted Dad died in September of '08, and I have yet to truly process what all that means. I'm still grieving for him. I feel this grief no less because he was someone who chose me, rather than someone who got my mother pregnant. My adopted mom, whom I basically just call "mom," and I are rebuilding our relationship after a lot of estrangement. I am thankful for this, because in my head she fits the slot of "mom" more than anyone. She is my Mother, and I love her dearly.

And then there is, "My father and mother are the people who nurtured my soul, guided my path, gave me inspiration and beautiful dreams." This is also true. So, I can name many fathers and mothers then. I name Barbara Jean Fant, I name Robert Heinlein. I name Gary Gygax. I name Starhawk and Luisah Teish. There are many, many others I could name. I'm grateful for them all.

That leaves the question, "Who are you nurturing and guiding, who are you a mother or a father of?"

I have the kids I have claimed as my own: G and Rowan. Certainly the States of Georgia and California think they are my children, as I paid child support for them and continue to pay for G. And, truth be told, it doesn't matter what the State or anyone else thinks: they are my children, plain and simple.

As a younger man, my life was very strange and many things were completely chaotic. But I reared my kids, and, even if we have been distant since they left my house, I still love them without reservation or condition as my daughter and son. If you are a guy and you change a person's diapers, hold them when they cry, discipline them, and take care of their boo-boos, and you do this every day until they can stand on their own two feet and take care of themselves, I truly believe that you are that person's Daddy.

I was there for them, and I would never give up those memories and those times; they are precious to me.

I have Katie, who is my step-daughter-in-heart (the daughter of the woman I'm life-partnered to), who lost her own biological father and came to live with us and has now lived longer with me as her male-authority-figure than she did with her father.

And then there are other more nebulous children: the children of my mind and spirit. Who are they? I have no idea. But I would love to know if I do.

And, speaking of nebulous children, if I knew that I had a biological child out there in the world, I would want to at least acknowledge him or her, and do what I could to show them love due to our tie of blood.

Certainly, I am the proud father of two novels, two games, many podcasts, and several blogs, and what are they if not children of my mind and spirit? I have hope that something I do in this lifetime will spawn life, love, hope, and future for other people.

So I invite you to ask yourself, "Who are my fathers and mothers? Who am I a father or mother to?" and think outside the normal definitions. You might be surprised who you name, or who names you.