By Ann Farabee

Fatherhood can be complicated. Families can be complicated.

But the two sure can become beautiful, especially when they go hand in hand.

My father was a worker at Cannon Mills Plant Number 1 in Kannapolis. The dye department was his home away from home. No matter his personal struggles or personal joys, he always went to work.

The only exception to this was what was referred to as “Vacation Week.” For one week a year, the mill — and the town — closed down completely for vacation.

Many of those weeks, my parents would pack up our car and we would go camping in the Smoky Mountains. The most fun part of the trip would take place in the middle of the night, because that was when the bears would come down the mountain and go through the trash cans at the campground. Personally, I was frightened, as I could see the shadows of bears walking by the tent. I always stayed awake waiting on the bears, so I could protect myself when they tore into the tent where I was huddled in a sleeping bag. One thing I knew was that I did not want to be a bear’s dinner. Looking back, I do not think staying awake to wait on the bears really helped. Those vacations always included my father, who enjoyed “bear watching” as well.

As the years have passed, my list of fathers has grown.

Included on the father list is my husband.

He could be considered a stepfather, a father and a grandfather.

Then there is the father who is the father of my two children.

He not only fathered them, but he now has taken over the role of father to our granddaughter.

My son is also on the father list. He is father to two of the most beautiful baby boys ever born. They are now 35 pounds and 25 pounds of pure joy.

He is also the father of a recently turned 12-year-old son who is our grandson.

He is also pure joy, although I do not know how many pounds of joy he is.

Any reader at this point is most likely thoroughly confused as to who is who and who belongs to who. I got confused just trying to explain my family to you, as I am trying desperately to not leave anyone out.

Refer back to the first sentence: Fatherhood can be complicated. Families can be complicated.

So can love.

So, I will just say it this way: To all the fathers and grandfathers: Whether you are raising 4-year-olds or 40-year-olds, you are amazing men of love and sacrifice. You work hard. You love greatly. You do your best. No one ever said it was easy, but it sure is worth it.

This may explain why tears come into my eyes when my 20-month old grandson reaches up to my son with a fully trusting heart, while lovingly saying, “Dada.”

Dada then reaches down, picks him up, and holds him in his strong arms that bring them both great comfort and great love.

Complicated? I don’t know about that. What could be any sweeter?

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.