It's my wedding day. I never thought I'd be here. With all of the abuse and abandonment and horrors I went through as a child, I never thought I'd get to be the kind of adult who got to do something so basic and normal to the human experience as to fall in love and get married, but here I am. And I really have one person to thank for it. Well, maybe two.
I never saw a healthy relationship growing up. My bio-dad was never in my life, except for a brief moment where he was found then lost. I miss the fantasy of who my bio-dad could have been, especially when having to settle for the reality of who he is. To my birth mom, men were a means to an end: a way to escape reality for a time, a hot meal, an easy high, a bed, or a temporary moment of comfort. I knew that love was meant to be more, but it wasn't until I was grown that I really saw how.
Because of how I was raised, I used men a similar way. I needed money and food, they were willing to pay me…what else could I do? Turn myself over to the state only to be prevented from ever reuniting with the only family I knew? For all of my mom's problems, she is my mom, and I will always love her. She did her best. Her best was not great, but it is what it is.
When I moved in with my foster mother, I couldn't believe she was married. I made a comment to that effect that I still regret to this day. Even though she had her life a lot more together than my mom, I realized quickly that her relationship with her husband was not all that it could have been either. As I grew to love her, at first my heart hurt for her. I knew she deserved better. But soon, I felt sorrier for all the men out there who missed the chance to be loved by her over the years, especially her now ex-husband. Her unconditional love for her children, myself included, finally opened my eyes and my heart to everything love could be.
The first time I had to reject someone, she showed me what it meant to be kind. The first time I was rejected, she convinced me it would be okay. The first time my heart was broken, she picked up the pieces and put me back together. And it was around that time that I got to witness one of the greatest moments in my lifetime. I saw my adoptive mother fall in love. She and my now adoptive father were resistant to it and so scared of the potential consequences, but it became clear after some pushing that their lives were better for one another. I thought they were being kind of ridiculous at the time, but now I see their struggles. Love is not as easy as just being together. After they decided the risks and sacrifices were worth it, I saw everything that love could be.
It is because of them that when I fell in love, I knew it would be so much more than someone to hang out with and someone to receive physical comfort from. Love was not a means to end. Love was finding the person who you would be willing to give up everything for, and who made you want to be the best person you could possibly be. My father proved it to me when he retired from his career and gave up what used to be his whole life ("the only place I fit in" he used to say) to be with my mother so she didn't have to give up hers. He proved it to me when we sat down man to man, and then as a family and talked about legally adopting me so that I knew he loved me, was there for me, and was going to fight for me always. He was the first true example I saw of the kind of man I want to become. He wasn't just "hooking up" with my mother. We were all becoming family. His son and daughter are as important to me now as my first brother and sister.
And here I stand, ready to commit my life to being that for someone else. This isn't about someone who just makes me feel good, or someone who can take care of my physical needs for awhile. This is about giving my life to someone else. The task is daunting. I'm terrified. I used to pride myself on taking care of myself and not needing anyone. It is hard to let that go, but I know now it's worth it. I look out to the congregation of people and see my mother and father sitting right in the front row. My dad is grinning proudly, and my mom is smiling, crying, and leaning into him for support. My four brothers and sisters (the number is still amazing to me after spending 18 years being an only child) are surrounding them in the seats with their families. My nieces and nephews are making a lot of noise while my siblings try to hush them. Behind them is the rest of the LAPD team that saved my life time and time again. While they are not officially family, they are some of the best friends a guy could ask for (or in my case, be forced into having,but hey - no regrets). Standing across from me is the one person who knows everything about me and doesn't love me in spite of it, but loves me because of it. This place is filled with hope. I feel a brief moment of sadness for the absence of my biological mom and dad, but my parents have handed me the world, and I know everything is going to be more than okay. My future kids will certainly have struggles in their lives, but an absence of love will never be one of them, and for that I will always be grateful to the family given to me by Sharon O'Dwyer Raydor Flynn.