Recently I was forwarded an email from change.org about a family in Virginia who joined an athletic club as a family. When they took their two year old son to the pool, they were asked to leave and their membership was revoked because, they were told, they are not a “real” family.
I don’t know this family but I imagine that their little boy calls each of them some form of daddy. I also imagine he loves each of them the same way any child loves his parents. And I imagine those dads love their little boy the same way I love my sons. And I’d bet money they do all the same things any “real” family does – take their son to the store, read him stories, give him a bath, take him to the doctor for his checkups, take him to the park, take him swimming at the pool. And you know I hope they take a lot of pictures!
What they do with all those pictures will make a difference to that little boy. When he’s a grown up man, will he be able to look back at this time in his life and have the photos and stories of what happened there in Virginia? Will he know how 176,000 people whom he never met signed a petition on his family’s behalf that caused change? To me, the most important pictures and stories are the everyday, mundane pictures of our lives – the ones that show we cared about our kids, that we did do those everyday things, that we are indeed a family, no matter the make-up.
Where are your photos? Are their stories being told?
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