I'm thinking today of my father. I do not have any memories of living with my father. As I have written before my mother died when I was very young and after she died I and the youngest two brothers went to live with an uncle and aunt. There were 8 children in all.
Every Sunday my dad and the other siblings would come to our house for dinner and visit. What I remember most is sitting on my Daddy's lap when he came to visit. He had black hair which he combed straight back (without a part). I would get my little comb and play with his hair. I would put a part in it or comb it all down over his face etc. He never complain about this. I guess he just liked it that his little girl would sit on his lap. I know he missed me not living with him and only seeing me on the Sunday.
As time went on my uncle really became my father. I never called him Dad. He was always Uncle Pete but he was my dad in every sense of the word. When I married my Uncle Pete walked me to the front to my husband-to-be. My dad sat in the front row with a big smile on his face.
So I really had the love of two Dads. Both of them are waiting for me in heaven.