Father

I understand that maybe I’m a bit late on writing this, but better late than never I guess. I’ve had time to really look back at how my life has changed since I became a Ciapala. You see, I used to have a different name until my step-dad adopted me when I was twelve years old. Before he made that choice to take me on as his son, I’d been through two separate father figures. One of them was abusive to both my mother and me before he decided to just leave his family. The second one was a good man who was overwhelmed and just made lots of mistakes with us. He later apologized to us for the things he did, and we definitely get along great now. However, that still left me without a dad. I had no one to look up to except Granddad and he was getting closer to passing away. (He did go to be with Jesus when I was 13.) Things changed when my mom married Mr. Frank Ciapala.

I remember when I found out that he and Mom were getting married. I was not happy at all. I was angry and didn’t understand yet another change in my life. Now I had to try and accept another person as an influence in my life. I went upstairs crying when my mom told me and hid in my room. Dad came over after work and my mom told him what happened. Instead of getting angry, he just came upstairs and knelt down in front of me. He asked me why I was upset and I told him. He smiled and shed a tear, at least from what I remember. He told me he loved me and wanted to adopt me. He wanted to be my dad. Then he hugged me. From that point on I was perfectly fine with the marriage and on November 8, 1990, when he adopted me, I couldn’t have been more proud to change my name. He accepted my mom and her three kids. He worked his tail off to provide, and in the process tried to give us a better life. I remember him taking me to my first baseball game. It was on July 20, 1991 at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, and the Pirates lost to the Reds, 3-2. It was a great time and it was just the two of us. I’ll never forget it. I think my passion for baseball was born on that day.

Dad is flawed. We both are. We didn’t get along in high school and there were things that happened that we both regret, but we got it together when I joined the military and I know that he is very proud of me. I know he’s not perfect. In fact, I know that he makes tons of mistakes, just like me. However, I’m still proud to carry his name, and I believe that the day is not yet here where we will all see the best of him. So to him I say, “Happy belated Father’s Day.”