My husband, Tony, is of Hellenic origin, and although we've been together for six years, this was my first wedding as part of the family. (Our own, with an outdoor ceremony conducted by a Unitarian minister at a maple sugar shack, definitely didn't qualify as Greek.) But there have been lots of other events -- engagement parties and funerals, the dipping of babies in olive oil -- and they all have one thing in common, aside from the abundance of food: half an hour before we leave the house, my husband goes bonkers.
How many people are lucky enough to have had not just one great dad, but two? I was! One for my first 16 years, Harry, my birth Father. Another, Stanley, my wife's dad then became mine for the last six years of his life. Your child wants nothing more than to feel appreciated and trusted to rise above the mistakes and be successful. This is what I see everyday in the dads around me.