From the beginning, I loved Mark’s adventurous spirit for the outdoors and watching him interact with my gang. He took us on weekend outings and summer vacations. They included dove hunting with my son, camp-outs on the beach, air shows, the circus, barbecues at the parks, and a vacation to Disney World. Even though raised in Miami, I had never been to Disney World and recall that I was as excited to go as the kids were.
Our all-time favorite excursion: A ten-day road trip to his hometown in California. We stopped in San Diego and spent the entire day at the zoo, the largest and grandest I had ever seen or strolled through. Our second day was in Los Angeles, where I knew we’d bump into Hollywood glitter to brag about back home.
I was right, too. Well, sort of.
To my shock, a few yards away, I spotted a celebrity in the crowd at Universal Studios. I saw the back of his head, and then he turned just enough for me to see his profile. He wasn’t Tom Cruise. He wasn’t Mel Gibson. He wasn’t exactly your Prince Charming … Of course, my kids didn’t know of him. Yep, I called out his name, and he waved right at me. It was he, all right. Tiny Tim! His song, Tiptoe Through the Tulips played in my head for the rest of that day.
In Monterey, we cruised along the 17-mile drive, passing greenery, plush golf courses, Clint Eastwood’s home, and the infamous Lone Cypress tree we’d seen only in photos before. We hung out at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco and toured the Museum of Natural History. We stopped in Salinas, visited Mark’s aunt, and continued to Modesto. We spent the night at his brother’s home and watched the children happily camp out in their backyard under a full moon in a tent.
Come morning, on to Yosemite National Park. As far as the eye could see, the view was breathtaking, beautiful, and serene. We enjoyed a picnic and watched a waterfall nearby, and then the little ones wanted to explore. Wherever Mark led, the children followed. The kids trailed him, fearlessly climbing one rock after another. I never cared much for heights, so I took pictures on “lower” ground.
Just as I started to worry, weren’t there bears around? My kiddos raced down the trail with Mark in tow.
“Mommy! Mommy!” they cried in unison.
“Where’d you guys go?” I asked. “I started to get—”
“You should have seen Mark,” they said, trying to talk at once.
As Mark drew closer, I noticed him soaking wet, a sheepish grin on his face. Apparently, when he wanted to venture farther along where the river ran, he instructed the kids to wait for him while he climbed higher. But when it was time to descend, Mark found himself in a tight spot. The drop was much too far down from where he stood to hop off. After some scheming, he threw his wallet and keys where the children were, then jumped into the cold river and swam until he could gain better footing and get back on track.
Amidst the chatter, I teased Mark by saying he had fallen into the river (instead of voluntarily jumping in). However, he and the kids insist that he deliberately dove in when he ran out of options. We would joke about this for years to come.
Unknowingly, those voyages were just the beginning of some wonderful memories my children shared with their step-dad, who lovingly, selflessly, and so “bravely” (as my brother puts it) stepped up to the plate. That husband of mine became more than just a “step” dad.
It takes a strong man to accept somebody else’s children and step up to the plate another man left on the table…
~ Ray Johnson
I love my husband for striving to be the best Daddy he can be for my children. It seems to have come naturally to him, ever since day one, when we crossed paths some twenty-three years ago.
By the way, that special someone makes a great, fun-loving “Papa” for our grandkids, too.
© M.A. Perez 2014, All Rights Reserved
From Heart to Heritage
Reflections From the Heart 