My stepdad was a different sort of guy. He was quiet and kind and had that decency you expect out of a country boy. But he was so much more.
I wasn’t really sure what to think when I first met him back in 2002. He was too quiet to read. But too kind and decent to ignore. He was the kind of guy that you wanted to make proud, but didn’t demand it. The kind of guy that made you feel his disappointment with a look, but rarely gave that look that said volumes.
When my mom had her aneurism (apparently this is a thing in this family???), Podunk and I bonded over mom’s cat’s litter box lol. He was disgusted, but she was in the hospital and really couldn’t/shouldn’t be scooping that box herself. But that had been the one thing he drew the line at – he’d do damn near anything for her. But cleaning the cat box? That was crossing the line lol. So he offered me $100 to scoop it for him. And being the kind, loving stepdaughter that I am, I obliged.
I called him Podunk because he used to always say he “came from a little Podunk town.” I always listened to country music (which he hated), so he called me “Podunk Wannabe” or “Wannabe” for short. It was our little inside joke. One of them.
When he was offered a job in Texas, I convinced my mom it was a good move – she should experience living somewhere other than California. I’m a firm believer that people grow more when they give themselves space to stretch out by leaving home. So she agreed. But it was funny because Podunk used to say he’d totally live in Texas… “because it never snows in Texas.” Ummmm, I don’t think so, Podunk. I think it was 3 days after they got to the Texas house when Austin had a record-breaking storm. They were snowed in. And because I care (and I’m snarky like that), I sent him a snow shovel via Amazon. With a note that said “To my Podunk. Because it never snows in Texas.” And when my mom made me an adorable pencil case for Christmas, he made a point of sharpening a whole box of pencils to include in it. Each one a different length, because he knew it would drive me insane. And he cackled the whole time he was sharpening them.
I once got him a t-shirt that said “I’m a proud Stepdad of a wonderful sweet and awesome Stepdaughter. And yes, she bought me this shirt. And yes, she thinks this is funny.” And he really did wear it proudly. And a keychain that said “Best Dad Ever. With love from the child you inherited when you decided to shack up with my mom.” That was just how we were with each other. Snarky. And loving. But never talking about it.
When I got the call from Mom that something had happened and they didn’t know if they could save him, I was on a plane before the day was out. I needed to be there for my mom. And I was dying a little inside, too. This was a man who came into my life around the time my dad and I had been having serious problems, and stepped in like a father figure who had been there my entire life. As awesome as my dad is, my life wouldn’t have been the same without my other dad.
Podunk, I know we never really talked about this sort of stuff, but you’re more pivotal to my life than I ever let you know. I miss you like crazy. You are so much more than this post implies, but I just don’t know that I have it in me to write more at the moment.
Leave a Reply