11 STORIES THAT SHOW US WHAT IT REALLY MEANS TO BE A DAD.

Story 4:

Story 5:
Just recently, my husband decided he doesn’t want to be married anymore. We’re in our mid-twenties, and after half a year of marriage, he’s changed his mind because he thinks we need more time to grow and mature.

My dad picked me up from my friend’s house, took me for coffee & to talk, and told me that I’ll be okay, that I have him and a wonderful support system, and so many people who love me to see me through this. When I mentioned my mom’s lack of support, he said, “That’s okay, that’s why you have a dad, too.” © yellowharlee727 / Reddit

Story 6:

Story 7:
When I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, my Dad made sure the pasta dishes that I loved so much that he made were exactly the same, only with gluten-free pasta. Every Christmas, he makes a separate pan of lasagna or baked ziti with gluten-free pasta for me, crushes Rice Chex for breadcrumbs for the meatballs, etc. He (and my mom) made sure I would never have to eat that food. © IllyriaGodKing / Reddit

Story 8:
I stayed over in February, the night before driving up to Liverpool from London. I was setting off at half 5 in the morning and expected to be up and out by myself.

My dad woke up half an hour before me and, while I was getting ready, went out to de-ice my car and drove it around a bit so that it was warm when I got in. It was something he didn’t think twice about (when I thanked him, he was like, “That’s what dads do”), but it meant a lot to me and just sums him up—little things like that make him the best… to me. © Unknown author / Reddit

Story 9:
I cannot imagine the world where they are not the last thing that I see before I go to sleep and the first thing that I see when they wake up in the morning and call me, “Daddy!”, which means that I have to pick them up from their beds and I carry them to the living room.

I also cannot imagine not being able to walk with them often and do crazy things that only three boys (that’d be me and the two of them) can do. I’m their buddy, shelter, and protector from harm.

Their mother—my wife—pretty much doesn’t divorce me because I provide well for the family, and they are all socially secure, and the kids love me. I don’t have warm feelings for her, either. I hang in there because I cannot stand being without them. That’s how much I love them. © strandedship / Reddit

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