Jenkins
By Olivia Jenkins
I believe that blood does not dictate family – you do. When I was just three years old, my parents got divorced. We lived in Fort Wayne, Indiana, but one product of my parent’s divorce was that my mom, my brother and I relocated to Sidney to be closer to her family. I remember thinking it was strange to be in a new place. Looking back, I realize that I was confused and apprehensive that my life would never be the same, but eventually we found a new normal. We returned to Indiana every other weekend to spend time with my dad. For years we kept up this routine. On my 13th birthday, my dad called and said happy birthday just like he did every year. Little did I know this would be the last time I would hear from him. He changed his number and deleted all of his social media accounts. It was almost as if he never existed. I spent months wondering what went wrong and blaming myself. I was so confused about why he just walked away from us.
I met Rob Jenkins, the man who would become my real dad, when I was four years old. I had no idea who this person was, I just knew that I liked him a lot. We instantly clicked and I always wanted to be around him. He would play games with me and my brother, tease us, and we always had a lot of fun together. He would always make time for my brother and me. We played Super Mario Brothers and Just Dance and laughed for hours. One day, he handed me a little red digital camera and told me to go hide and take as many pictures as I could. At this time, I didn’t know what was going on until he got down on one knee in front of my mom and pulled out a ring. Unfortunately, five year old me was not very good at taking pictures and they all ended up blurry. While those pictures were blurry, what became very clear to me in that moment was that I knew Rob was my real father and he was here to stay.
I was six years old when my mom remarried. Rob was a natural at being a dad. During the years when I was going back and forth from Indiana on the weekends, I always looked forward to returning to my home in Sidney to be with my mom and Rob. That is why when my birth father stopped calling after my 13th birthday, despite my confusion and frustration, my stepdad was there for me the entire time, no matter what happened. He never left my side. He took me in as his own from the very beginning.
Now, at 17 years old, I see all of the things that Rob has done for me that my biological father did not. He never misses any milestones in my life whether that be my 10th birthday, getting my driver’s license, or getting accepted into my top choice college. He even took pictures of me and my friends for our Senior Homecoming- and these pictures weren’t blurry. He is my biggest supporter.
When I turned 15 I asked Rob to adopt me and become my real father legally. That adoption was finalized in October of last year. I upgraded from Olivia Keller to Olivia Jenkins. I believe that decision was one of the best I have ever made. I have never regretted making this choice. Rob has been nothing short of an amazing father figure to me and I will always commend him for that. I am forever grateful that he took me in and loved me unconditionally. He has shown me the very definition of family – I don’t need to be biologically related to someone to love them with my entire heart. The great American poet, Maya Angelou wrote that “Family isn’t always blood, it’s the people in your life who want you in theirs: the ones who would do anything to see you smile and who love you no matter what.” This is my favorite quote. Rob Jenkins may not be blood related, but he is the very definition of family. He is the one I look up to, the one I go to when things get tough, my superhero, and most importantly – He is my dad.
Olivia Jenkins is the daughter of Rob and Cristina Jenkins. She is a senior at Sidney High School. After graduation she will attend the University of Cincinnati where she looks forward to finding new adventures. This summer she plans to soak in as many moments with her family as she can before she leaves for college.
