My Real Dad

When I was in 7th or 8th grade, my parents and I went to my sister's cross country meet. Since there wasn't much to watch (they were running through the woods), my parents and I went on a walk through the woods. And during our walk, I had the idea to give them each a unique stone so that if anyone tried to impersonate them and I wasn't sure if it was my real mom or dad, it wouldn't work. Only my real mom and dad would know to show me their stone as evidence of their identity.

Just before my wedding, Dad pulled out that same stone, over 10 years later. He had it in his tux pocket and showed it to me, saying, "This is how you know it's your real dad walking you down the aisle." I got all teary (and I'd just done my make-up!), and it was a really sweet moment.

A few hours ago when I went in to see Dad, he said, "My stone is in my pocket. My stone. So you know I'm your real dad." And then he started tearing up some. Seeing as he's in a hospital gown and doesn't have pockets, and couldn't show me the stone, I told him I knew he was my real Dad because he was telling all my Dad's jokes.

And boy am I glad to have my real Dad around.