A stepdad's love for his son helps grieving family - By Charlie Westerman (WSU For Daily Evergreen)

Every year my dad, a Wyoming cattle rancher, fixes 72 miles of fence, shepherds 1,000 head of cattle, and feeds them every morning from December to April before any of us college students would dream about waking up. Every year he writes a thoughtful card to his wife on her birthday, Mother’s Day, their anniversary and Christmas. Every day he tells her he loves her. Every year for my birthday growing up he would give me a tool to add to my toolbox, then that summer when my woodworking project for 4-H was due, he’d take 12-15 hours of his time to help me build something with the tools he gave me. In a culture where ideas of masculinity and the roles of husbands and fathers are severely confused and misunderstood, I have been blessed to have grown up under the example of such a man. The world we live in today doesn’t find a lot of men saying they hope they can be like their father when they grow up, yet there are many reasons I want to be like mine. It all starts with how he came to be my dad in the first place. My biological father died of a brain tumor when I was fourteen months old leaving my mom with my two brothers and me to take care of. When I was three my Mom married Dan, who also lost his wife to cancer and was left with two daughters. We moved to our ranch in Chugwater and blended our families in such a way that describing Dan and my sisters as “step” is dreadfully uncomfortable for me. He has never been my stepdad. He has always treated me like I was his son. I want to be like my father is because he was great at spending time with his kids and teaching them. I learned to play baseball with a plastic bat and him lobbing me a balled up pair of socks in our living room. I learned how to change to the oil in my car on a Sunday afternoon when he could’ve been inside watching football. I think many dads today feel like the money they provide for their familywill suffice for their love. My dad not only provided for our family, he gave us his time. His devotion to his marriage with my Mom taught me not only what a good father does, but what a good husband does. I have never heard my father make a joke about “the old ball-n-chain.” I have never heard him call her a degrading name. I constantly saw him show us that he loved my mom through physical affection and compliments about her beauty and character. My dad is cool. He has a ranch dog named Sully, he loves astronomy (he gave me and my siblings a star for our birthdays this year), he knows how to text, he was a star basketball player in high school, he has a hot wife and he came all the way from Chugwater, Wyoming (population 244) to read this column.