My mom said that my real dad came back, but for me, my stepfather has long been my stepfather.

There are times when stepfather dearer than father. What to do if the biological “dad” with his duties failed, and the “alien uncle from the street” became a real parent. All that remains is to set priorities correctly. Be grateful to the person who supported in a difficult time. Time goes by and people get old. It does not matter if they are blood relatives or only according to documents.



Peels Many people in childhood faced a similar situation. Stepfather or stepmother, it doesn't matter. As statistics show, certain difficulties in communication between children and new parents, of course, arose. But, for the most part, their relationship, sooner or later, improved. Although, some out of the ordinary force majeure, also sometimes happened.

What professions do your fathers have? Builder, doctor, teacher? My biological father was a sailor all his life. Swam from port to port, saw a lot, met people, created. Well, at least I had such hopes as a kid. We didn’t live together; my dad left my family when I was about five years old.

My mom always said he was a dream traveler. Therefore, they are not meant to be together. So soon, Uncle Valera appeared in our lives. Skinny, quiet man, in a jacket and hat with fields. Nothing outstanding or stand out. Bald spots, glasses and an old suitcase. And how could he even like his mother?



I thought this weird uncle would soon disappear, evaporate from my space. But instead, he became a great husband to my mom and a great father to me. Uncle Valera never raised his voice. He was always verbose, but more often than not, he gave the right idea to solve the problem.

When I had a boyfriend, my mom just shifted her eyebrows and told me to “don’t think about it.” The three of us lived in my mom's two-bedroom apartment, and she was always afraid that I'd bring the guy in. But the stepfather, I remember, found a way to meet me on the street, took me to some cafe and there, over a cup of tea, gave some advice. It was probably the best conversation a father and daughter could have had.



Then I realized how lucky my mother was with her man. After all, in fact, he devoted all his free time to us, me and my mother. He put most of his salary on the table on payday. All I left was for gasoline and maybe something sweet. He often bought cookies, but he always shared them with us.

At home, as a man, he was also good. Where to fix what shelves to repaint, repair equipment – all these cases lay on his shoulders and were executed in the shortest possible time. I know that women often quarrel with their husbands about such domestic issues, and now I am. But he and his mother did not have such a thing. Uncle Valera could make anything with scotch, two boards and a battery.

He had one drawback: calmness and melancholy. And my mom likes to be in a Latino show. To passion, dynamics, eternal inefficiencies and change of scenery. The usual, quiet rhythm of life for her is too boring and tiresome. Although her youth is long gone. It would seem that it is time to take a break from excesses.



I am now the mother of a teenage son. And until recently, I thought that my only problem would be the idea of where to find money for a child to go to college. But no, even being married, living in a completely different house, I still overtook the past. The unpleasant, old, bearded past. With a squeaky voice and a hypocritical look.

Yeah, that's what my father was. I mean, biological parent. He, you see, wanted to return, having walked and squandered for decades. It turned out that he was a sailor, or at least definitely connected with the sea. An old, gray-haired man with a beard without a mustache and a heavy look. What questions could this stranger have for our family? How could he think someone would let him in?

You should have seen my mother’s eyes as I saw them. She looked at this monster like a young schoolgirl at a twenty-year-old athlete with long, dirty hair. I thought people didn't fall in love at her age. But obviously it wasn't. They fall in love.



Peels Mom said my real dad was back. Yeah, the real thing, of course. Uncle Valera, that's who my father is. But Mom decided otherwise. He and that bearded bogey kicked my dad out. They gave him some money for the hostel, and then somewhere on their own. Fortunately, he still had a job. Now I had to get to know my dad again and take him back. Forgetting about the best stepfather in the world.

I am glad that this situation happened now that I have a husband, a job and I am able to repay the good. Naturally, I found Uncle Valera. He seemed to be wearing the same costume as I remember him. Only the wrinkles multiplied and the look became something even sadder.

He now lives in our apartment. In the third room, which is never used. I understand that this is a half measure, so I am not going to dwell on it. The decision is up to my mom right now. You see, the day before yesterday, I spoke to her separately, an already nasty man. And we had a tough conversation.



My beloved stepfather, I said it like it is. What if she wants to be with my first father so badly, let her move in with him and live with him? If they rent an apartment together, but at least they live in a dumpster, I am parallel. But Uncle Valera will live in this house, period. He totally deserved it. Otherwise, I'll take him in. Husband and son don't mind.

I will not only lose my biological father, but also my mother. I will stop all our communication not only now but in the future. Whatever happened. I am the only child in our family, so to speak. Therefore, your mother should think carefully about her decision. Which is more important to her: her own daughter or the whole Marleson Ballet. There's still time.



You see, I can't betray Uncle Valer. I call him that out of habit. In fact, he has long since become my own father. Let him only be the beloved stepfather. And if my mother is the kind of person who can, in spite of everything, do this treacherous thing, then I want nothing to do with her. I don't know who raised me like that. But I consider my actions right, and what happens next will be on the conscience of my parent. Or whatever I'll have to call it, if anything. We'll see.