This post has no pictures!!!! You have been warned!

So I know it’s been a long time since I was the one posting on this blog, and I know that normally we post about Christian-type issues. I haven’t posted in a while because of several reasons which I will possibly maybe detail in some later post, maybe.

Today I thought I would switch it up. Normally the blog isn’t used for these sorts of thing – normally its purpose is to detail our foray into faith, with all our doubts, complaints and triumphs. This time my plan is to talk up something that I feel has been a huge blessing in my life. More than that, it’s been one of the single features that have kept me grounded and turned toward the center no matter where I was in my life.  At the risk of sounding cliché (and a little gross), I want to take a minute, in honor of Father’s day, to give a shout out to my husband.

Now I know today is Father’s Day (or else it recently passed. . .  I can be a pretty serious procrastinator, when the mood is on me) and that means this post is bordering on “expected nonsense” already, and as a general rule, I loathe doing what is expected of me. It’s true, ask anyone. I thought that I would take a moment to give a little thanks for someone who doesn’t get enough.

So allow me to prattle on a little bit, and if you can’t because this is sentimental type-vomit, feel free to scroll to the end. Either way: here we go.

I met this guy at the ripe old age of 22. By this point I’d already had two failed marriages and as many children. I was bitter, full of baggage and hang-ups, not to mention not at all looking for a different (read: exactly the same) relationship. I should also mention, he was my boss.

Now, Daniel didn’t try to woo me, didn’t try to pick me up, and didn’t even try to flirt with me. He gave me something else I needed, which I’ve already mentioned; I don’t do well when left to my own devices. He gave me friendship and support. Before we ever started dating there were game nights at his house with a bunch of his friends, there were play-dates (I hate that term) with our daughters who were at the time 3 and 4. There were break time conversations at work that were deeper and more meaningful than anything I’d been able to experience in a long time.

Slowly his intelligence, wit and charm made me peek around my walls. But it wasn’t enough. Two failed marriages is enough to teach a lesson to all but the slowest of learners, and I was never one of those. I kept my distance despite the growing feelings in my heart.

The guy I had recently divorced was basically useless, both as a husband and as a father. Couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t be relied upon for anything as simple as a ride much less taking care of his two young children’s basic needs. Daniel and I were not even dating yet, though we’d been working our way into a pretty heady friendship, when the need for my kids to have new coats for winter arose. Baby-daddy had never returned any calls, much less coughed up any money, and every dime I had was going to the basic support of the kids. I couldn’t afford anything extra. Daniel heard of this and volunteered his own money to buy coats (nice ones) for the kids that weren’t even his despite the fact that he was getting nothing at all from me in return.

Later, when we started dating but were not yet extremely serious, my young son Dustin (who was at the time about 8 months old) burnt both his hands badly on an unsupervised oven door while under the care of his biological dad. Baby-daddy couldn’t be talked out of his screeching panic to do anything, so I was called from work where I did some damage control on the poor little dude’s badly blistered hands, and took him to the hospital. Daniel and I were supposed to meet that night to have some quiet time together. I called him and let him know I wouldn’t make it because I would be at the hospital with the boy. He got off from work and met me next to Dustin’s urgent care bed, as if that was the ‘date’ he had in mind all along. He never voiced a word of complaint.

As things got more and more serious between us, I began to see more and more of the selfless nature of Daniel’s character. He wasn’t perfect, sure. He had his fair share of pride and attitudes, sure. But beneath all of that he was willing to sacrifice everything to give to me, and my children.

My daughter was old enough to remember her biological father, and she felt some resentment toward Daniel for trying to take on that role . . . even though he was much better at it, and more available for her than her dad ever was. She never hesitated, in her 4-6 year old way, to tell everyone that he wasn’t her REAL dad. He never left her side, and though I know it hurt him to hear her say things like that, he bore it with the good graces of some sort of saint, and never stopped trying to reach out to her and bond.

Daniel and I have been together for 8 years now. My daughter is 11 and while she remembers her dad, Daniel has become the face associated with the word “daddy”. My son Dustin doesn’t even remember his real dad – Daniel is all he’s ever known, and together Daniel and I brought Teaghan, our youngest, into the world. You might think there was a separation, even subtly, between “her kids” and “our kid” but there isn’t. Nothing could be further from the truth, in fact. Our kids are loved equally and individually, and I’ve seen him go to work in holey underthings and threadbare shirts so that our kids could express their individuality at school in fresh new clothes.

This is just a surface glimpse of the gift I’ve been given in this man. Never mind that he is amazing to me, and has been a pillar of support and a lynchpin of my explorations into growth whether we’re talking about faith or emotional growth. He took a broken, angry and bitter girl and turned her into a (sort-of) wife, and he took a broken household and turned it into a (dysfunctional, but whole) family.

I have no money. I have nothing I can do for him to show him how much this means to me. What he’s given me is beyond value, and even if I were wealthy I don’t think I could do anything to accurately and adequately express how his continual selflessness, his patience in times of trial, and his sacrifice for these children not even his really means. I will say that for all his gruff and sometimes crass nature, he is a much better person than I am in so many ways, and I don’t think, were the situations reversed, that I would have tried half as hard, nor endured half as well, as he has done these past 8 years.

So! None of this was particularly funny, and this is a huge wall of text. Sorry for that. If its tl:dr. . .well, I’ll sum it up for you.

“Daniel Mitchell. You have been the single greatest gift I have ever received, and you’re still giving to this day. I love you. I’m glad to have you and you are more appreciated than you can ever know. I love you. Thank you. Happy Fathers day.”

About Brandi Mitchell


7 responses to “This post has no pictures!!!! You have been warned!

  • Melissa Sutton

    Wow. So eloquent and beautiful. Happy Father’s day to Daniel.

  • Jennwith2ns

    Yay! I’ve been wanting to read posts from the “other half”! And this was a great one. Thanks for sharing more of your story.

  • Brandi Mitchell

    Hi Jenn! Thanks for reading! I actually DO have more posts on here (6 of them in fact! o.o) but theyre pretty far back in the timeline. I’ll endevor to post more often. For my fans. :P

  • Anthony Barnett

    Brandi, Thanks for sharing your heart about your best friend, lover, confidant, your children’s father (they’re his, too), and husband. I am glad I know the both of you personally, though briefly – a tax season was too short! But let me tell you and my brother in Christ, I love you much and look forward to a time we can share a meal and fellowship with Jesus. Grace and peace be yours from God our father and Jesus Christ our savior.

  • Lucas

    You gave me a great mental picture of your story and life, and made me want to be friends with you guys! I also teared up, which is probably a win in you bloggers’ book.

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