Fathers or stepfathers, their hearts are what define them

My dad, David Martinez, taught me life lessons through his example, setting the bar high for fathers. He was, and is, dedicated, loving and never afraid to share his heart.

He worked for 34 years as a school janitor, supervisor and bus driver, and he poured his heart into those jobs, despite the low pay (he still works now, despite retirement).

Always clear that school came first, Dad pushed me to play sports, cheering as my biggest fan, though sports weren’t my strength. He never let me quit and told me, years later, when I interviewed him for a graduate project, that he couldn’t play sports because, from the age of 6, he and his family had to work on farms. He was picking cotton and cutting sunflowers out of grain as they chopped it by hand, and working other crops, before returning home to help tend to farm animals.

In high school, he worked various delivery and fast-food jobs to help his family of 12.

“It was rough,” he said, voice cracking. “I wanted you all to have better opportunity than us in life.”

Every year on my birthday, Dad calls to sing “Happy Birthday” and tell me I was such a tiny baby — I was a premature “miracle baby” when medical advances weren’t what they are now. His eyes well up with tears and his voice crackles as he points to the palm of his hand: “You fit right here,” he says.

That’s my dad. He’s loved by most everyone who knows him.

Until I met my husband, Sean Preyor-Johnson, I had never known a stepfather, but from the beginning, my husband defined it beautifully. I knew he was already a loving father to his two daughters, Dominique Preyor-Johnson and Antoinette PreyorJohnson. Their relationships have always been strong.

In many ways, my husband is not like my dad. My husband isn’t sentimental, and he’s fair but gives it to you straight. Still, his love and loyalty shine through.

Never did he show his heart more than when he not only verbalized his choice to treat my son as his own but followed through with his countless decisions through the years. He chose to treat Terence like his own, and he never turned back.

Most stepdads will tell you it’s not easy — especially during the teenage years. They are trying to help raise children who aren’t theirs biologically. Children who already have dads and emotional baggage, and have lived years without a stepdad. The challenges in our home were abundant over the

years, but my husband stuck with it, trying his best to help shape Terence to be independent.

A letter from my son to my husband on Father’s Day — when Terence was 13 — still warms my heart , even as my son will turn 21 this year and he’s off on his own, figuring out life.

Here’s what he wrote, lightly edited for clarity:

Dad, thank you.

For teaching me to eat and act properly at the table.

For teaching me to work like a man so I can do for myself.

For teaching me to defend myself (When I need it.).

Thank you for teaching me to swim (That, I can use for a long time!).

For teaching me how to ride a bike (Sure was a Christmas present!).

Thanks for teaching me how to cook so I don’t live off of restaurants.

Thanks for teaching me to cut grass so I can do it myself without leaving the yard looking like a diamond.

Thank you for teaching me to put up a beautiful fence for my family.

Thank you for teaching me to be a believer and have faith and God.

Fathers, stepfathers and father figures: If you have any doubt of the impact you are making in the lives of your children, just ask. I’m sure they’d be happy to tell you what they’ve learned.

Courtesy photo My son, Terence Russell, when he was about 7, and my husband, Sean.