Dr. Tony Zimbardi, PsyD, LMFT

Author of : Forever Dads

Phone Number: (323) 851-1304

E-mail: drtonypsyd@sbcglobal.net

Primary address:
8235 Santa Monica Blvd.
4th Floor
West Hollywood, CA 90046
Alternate address:
11271 Ventura Blvd., #289
Studio City, CA 91604

 

Book Cover Forever Dads

To order my book, go to:

Amazon.com

Chapter samples available:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Forever Daddy

Now that I’m an expectant dad, I find myself completely hormonal. Logically, I understand I’m not pregnant. Lately, however, I cry at everything and anything. Certainly if I see any TV commercial involving kids, Band-Aids, cookies, or puppies, I’m a goner. The gay parenting documentaries continue on TiVo, as do the visits to the gay dad’s Pop Luck Club meetings.  I’m in a constant state of choked up.  As you can imagine, I feel quite emotional as Antonio and I drive through the gates of Vista Del Mar Child and Family Services for our first mandatory parenting class.

We walk into the building where our class is to take place and I immediately notice a little boy of about 8, sitting quietly and alone in a corner of a long corridor. It is 8:30 on a Saturday morning and there aren’t any people around. The place is dimly lit and all the rooms are closed with their doors locked, except for our classroom illuminating the far end of the hallway. The boy looks small for his age, with large, sad eyes. I look him right in the eye, nod, and smile. He looks back for a moment, and then looks down. I am overcome; my eyes well up. I think to myself that he, or someone just like him, could become our son. It’s only our first day and I’m already overcome with emotion, I duck into the men’s-room halfway down the corridor, leap into a stall, lock the door behind me, and let the tears flow.

Seeing this boy triggers the memory of a story a gay dad relayed in one of the documentaries we watched on Logo. The dad spoke of how one morning about a year after the adoption, his 4-year-old son came into his bedroom and said, “Daddy, I had a dream about you last night.”

The dad asked, “What was it about, Honey?”

His son began: “I dreamed that I was walking down the street with my suitcase looking for my forever daddy. I knocked on one door and asked, ‘Are you my forever daddy?’
And the man said ‘No.’

Then I knocked on another door and asked, ‘Will you be my forever daddy?’
And he shook his head and said, ‘No.’

Then I knocked on your door and you opened it and I asked, ‘Will you be my forever daddy?’

“And you said,” ‘Of course, I would love to be your forever daddy.’

At that point, in the documentary, the dad was crying as he relayed this story, and as I watched, I cried, too. And now, I find myself crying again, alone in a bathroom stall, at the thought of a three or four-year-old boy walking down the street with a suitcase, looking for a daddy. It makes me wonder if the boy I just passed in the hall would ever find his “forever” daddy or mommy. I am overwhelmed with sadness and elation at the same time—sadness that there are so many children out there looking for parents, and elation that I am one of the lucky ones who one day might get to become someone’s forever daddy.

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