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Growing up in the early seventies， divorce had yet to take its death grip on the nuclear family. The only child from a “broken home” that I had ever encountered in my entire elementary school education was an interesting oddity to me. My classmates seemed frightened by her， as if they might catch her condition. I had already lost my father to death， so divorce seemed irrelevant. He had been gone since I was four， and although I occasionally plotted to 1）ensnare 2）Henry Fonda as his successor， my Mom and I seemed to manage adequately on our own.

In light of my rather benign feelings on fathers and divorce， I was surprised to find that as the years progressed， I had unknowingly formulated a garish stereotype of the divorced father in my 3）subconscious. I clearly envisioned him strolling around his 4）affluent 5）digs， sporting a smoking jacket， sipping martinis. His two main objectives were avoiding 6）alimony payments and keeping his children out of his perfectly 7）coifed hair. I never once considered that this 8）caricature might have any paternal feelings or rights.

By the time I was in my mid-twenties， these scoundrels were fast becoming my co-workers and peers. This exposure forced me to rethink my misguided notions and try to look at the topic more objectively. Upon closer examination， I was startled to find that many of these men were truly wonderful fathers who suffered great anguish as a result of being unwillingly separated from their children. I had never 9）pondered the devastating consequences of losing the right to live with your offspring. Missing out on the 10）milestones of your child’s life， as well as day to day living， leaves you feeling more like a visitor than a parent.

Despite popular opinion， a failed relationship does not necessarily translate into being a bad parent. Men seem to be punished for the breakup of a family. It is often in everyone’s best interest for an unworkable marriage to be dissolved， but that does not mean that the importance of either parent should ever be diminished.

I attributed much of my new found enlightenment to a man whom I had met through a mutual friend.

He had recently endured a 11）grueling divorce which had virtually 12）stripped him of his fatherhood. Family court had left him with a visitation schedule， a payment schedule， and a parent’s broken heart. Nevertheless， he was 13）relentless in his love. He spent every possible moment afforded to him， caring for and loving his daughter， often at the expense of his own comfort. He turned down everything， from 14）overtime to entertainment， that might interrupt one moment of his time with his child.

The first time I met him he had his cute blonde-haired， blue-eyed daughter close by his side. Perfectly groomed from head to toe， the only detail somewhat awry was that her baby fine hair was parted in a military fashion. “You comb her hair like a boy！” my friend teased.

“Maybe she needs a bow，” I ventured.

“She’s great just the way she is，” he announced， after giving her a quick inspection.

Our hostess finally got around to introducing us three. Jessica was a tiny female clone of her father. She eyed me 15）suspiciously and clung to her father in a protective gesture.

“My Daddy！” she proclaimed. The pained mask that shrouded her father seemed to melt away， revealing eyes that twinkled with adoration as he scooped up his precious 16）bundle into his arms.

“It’s all right， baby，” he 17）soothed. Unimpressed， she continued to eye me with caution.

I had long heard from my friend what a capable， loving father he was. Time went on， and I witnessed first-hand the strong father/daughter bond they shared； an invaluable joy which I had never experienced in my own life. Their 18）unwavering love and devotion to each other was miraculous to me.

“Here，” I thought， “is a great father！” Not unlike the image of my own paternal fantasy. I halfheartedly considered him for my mother， but I found my dream Dad a few decades too late， so， I married him myself. He got his much deserved second chance. I had finally found my own Henry Fonda， plus a wonderful stepdaughter. Best of all， I get to share them both with our threeyear-old son.

我成长于七十年代初，那时，离婚尚未对核心家庭产生严重的影响。整个小学阶段，我仅遇到过一个来自破裂家庭的小孩，而在我看来，她是让人好奇的异类。同学们似乎都害怕她，好像她会传染似的。我父亲已经去世，所以离婚似乎与我无关。我四岁时，父亲就去世了，虽然我偶尔会密谋想要让亨利·方达成为我的继父，但是我和母亲相依为命，生活算是能够自足。

因为父亲和离婚对我而言都是无关痛痒的概念，我惊奇地发现，随着时间的推移，我不知不觉地在潜意识中对离了婚的父亲产生一种俗气的思维定势。我清楚地设想他漫步于自己的豪宅，披着便服，啜饮着马丁尼酒。他的两大目标是逃避赡养费和让孩子远离自己那头梳得完美的头发。我从不认为这漫画般夸张的形象能有什么父爱或者父权存在。

我二十几岁时，这些无赖很快成为了我的同事和同辈。这种接触使得我开始重新思考以前被误导的概念，并更加客观地去看待这个问题。进一步审视时，我惊讶地发现其实这些人中有许多是绝佳的父亲，他们被迫离开自己的孩子，遭受极大的痛苦。我从未思考过，失去和儿女一同生活的权利会给他们带来的毁灭性的后果。错过儿女生命成长中的里程碑事件以及日常生活，使人感觉自己更像是一个过客而非父亲。

即使众口铄金，百辞莫辩，但一段失败的家庭关系并不意味着你就是一个糟糕的父亲。男人似乎就该为家庭的破裂负全部责任。对于无法继续的婚姻，离婚总是最好的选择。但当父母的，哪一方的重要性都不该被削弱。

我之所以获得这些新启示大部分应该归因于一个男人，他是我通过一个相互认识的朋友而结识的。他刚经历了残酷的离婚，这剥夺了他作为父亲的权利。家庭法庭仅留给他一份探视日程表、一份付款日程表和作为父亲的一颗破碎的心。虽然如此，他从未停止爱自己的孩子，他竭尽所能地照顾和关爱女儿，常常牺牲了自己的时间。他会推掉很多事情，无论是加班还是娱乐休闲，为的是陪伴女儿，一刻也耽误不得。

我第一次与他见面，他身边带着可爱、金发碧眼的女儿。小女孩从头到脚打扮得十分完美，唯一别扭的细节是她精致的秀发是以军人的发式向两边分开的。“你把她的头发梳得像男孩子似的！”我的朋友取笑他道。

“或许配一个蝴蝶结好点儿，”我试探地说道。

“她这样子就很好了，”他迅速地对女儿打量了一番，然后说道。

我们的女主人最后终于抽出时间来为我们三人做介绍。杰西卡完全是他父亲女版、小型的克隆。她满怀狐疑地看着我，然后以自我保护的姿态依附在爸爸的身旁。

“爸爸！”她喊道。他脸上悲伤的面具似乎随即褪去，眼神中透露着慈爱，并把宝贝女儿抱起来。

“没事的，宝贝，”他安慰女儿道。但是女儿仍旧不为父亲的安慰所动，保持警惕地看着我。

我一直听朋友说他是一位能干又慈爱的父亲。随着时间推移，我亲眼见证他们之间那种亲密的父女关系；这是一种我人生中从未体会过的、无价的欢乐。他们对彼此坚定的爱和奉献对于我来说，就像奇迹般。

“这，”我想，“就是一位伟大的父亲！”就像我幻想中的父亲的形象。我颇有兴致地考虑撮合他和我的母亲，但是我发现自己晚了几十年才找到理想的父亲，所以，我自己嫁给了他。他得到自己应得的第二次机会。我最终找到了自己的亨利·方达，还有一个非常棒的继女。而最棒的是，我能够和我们三岁大的儿子分享这一切。