Gotcha Day!
In honor of Nora’s February Gotcha Day and April birthday
This is how we became a complete family.
I don’t say “I love you” easily.
Maybe it’s all the years spent in survival mode, or maybe it’s just how I’m wired now.
I don’t know what all this means in the bigger picture of our family’s journey—
I guess I’m still figuring it out.
But I do know this:
love looks different for everyone.
For us, love has never been about words.
It’s been about showing up, standing firm, and making it through.
About surviving, adapting, and finding family in places we never expected.
And today, we celebrate that.
Life Without a Father—Until That Changed
In 2001, I left Texas with a two-and-a-half-year-old and a faulty survival plan, at best.
I had no idea what I was doing—just that I had to keep moving forward.
I worked.
I barely provided.
I did my best to make life full and happy.
But I was never under the illusion that I could fill every space.
Her biological father never made himself a real presence in her life.
And eventually, we just stopped talking about him.
But his absence was felt.
When she stepped onto the field at band competitions.
When she crossed the stage at graduation.
All those times when a girl just needs her dad.
I was there. Always.
But sometimes, I wondered if it was enough.
She doesn't see it, but she's always been strong—
quietly observant, wickedly smart, and fiercely loyal.
Hell, she had to be.
I mean, look who her mom is.
Maybe she wasn’t looking for a father.
But looking back, I think she was waiting for one.
Along Came Alex
She met Alex on our first official date—at Scene 76 in Dayton, Ohio.
And because she’s Nora, she was skeptical.
She participated in the fun, sure. But she kept a safe distance—
like he was an exhibit at the zoo.
There was no dramatic “this man shall be my father” moment.
Just time. A lot of it.
One day, I casually mentioned adult adoption.
Without hesitation, Alex said yes.
Nora, however, was clear:
"I don’t know him."
That was fair.
But over time, things shifted.
Slowly.
In ways that weren’t obvious at first.
A few months after we were married, she went on a mini shopping spree for his birthday—
she carted home a giant Chewbacca head and some other random things that only made sense if you knew him.
To his credit, he embraced it.
He put that damn head on the headrest of his car and drove around with it for weeks—
zero concern that he was driving through the gates of an Air Force base every day. In uniform.
That’s when I knew.
Then COVID hit, and she had to leave school and stay with us.
The four of us.
Four dogs.
One tiny house.
Then—it snowed.
And snowed.
And snowed... some more.
Talk about putting a new marriage to the test.
And still, he was there.
He didn’t try to be her dad.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t ask for anything.
He just showed up, again and again, until it was clear he always would.
Making it Official
Alex was clear: adoption would be her choice.
So I let it be.
Until cancer changed everything.
I didn’t know what my future held. Or if I’d have one.
But the thought of her being left without a parent was worse than the diagnosis.
Turns out, Alex had already been thinking about it too—
but he was cautious.
His own experience with a stepmother left scars.
The last thing he wanted was for Nora to feel pressured.
But as with all things, God’s timing is perfect.
They talked.
And this time, she was on board.
Becoming a Family
The adoption process itself was weirdly simple.
No legal hurdles.
No drama.
Just a choice, finally made.
And a sobering moment.
One that will stay with me forever:
The judge’s words to Alex—
"From this day forward, Alex, you are Nora’s father, just as if she had been born to you."
Happy 26th Birthday & Gotcha Day, Sweetpea
I don't really know what this meant to her.
Maybe it was about having someone.
A go-to person.
A solid presence.
A Dad—in every way that mattered.
For me, it meant I could finally breathe.
For Alex?
I can’t speak for him.
But I know this—he loves you.
And he always will.
I don’t say “I love you” easily.
Maybe I never will.
But on your birthday, on your Gotcha Day, I hope you know—
You are loved.
Fiercely.
Wholeheartedly.
Unapologetically.
Welcome home, kid.
No refunds. No exchanges.
Now let’s eat cake.
No refunds. No exchanges.
No refunds. No exchanges.
If you’ve ever found family where you didn’t expect it—
this one’s for you.
Pass it on.