I have been given the incredible blessing of having more than one father figure in my life.

My dad, Clint Reinoehl, was an incredibly strong, kind and resilient man with a heart of gold. He was one of those unique people you only seem to meet once in your life and who tells stories that seem too grand to be true.

Such as the instance where he invented a color. For a time he worked with the fine art company Daniel Smith and after being tasked with painting a clock, the art director thought the color was so unique, they decided to add it to their product catalogue. He named his creation Moonglow, and today is one of the company’s most popular watercolors and has an almost cult-like following.

But, he was most well-known for being the longtime director of the Bottineau Chamber of Commerce. Growing up, my siblings and I were often “voluntold” to help out with the community events he helped organize. At the time I didn’t realize the impact those experiences would have, but they taught me the value of community and service. Those lessons eventually led me to spend 10 years as a Girl Scout and developed a deep appreciation for civic involvement, volunteering and the importance of community.

Angie Reinoehl/MDN Angie Reinoehl's father, Clint Reinoehl, left, and her brother, Michael Reinoehl, right, wear matching shirts that read, “Team Rhino,” which was Clint Reinoehl's name for friends and family. Rhino was his nickname in the Army, and a fun play on the family name. Rhino become the family mascot.

He also knew how to make things stretch when money was tight. Some of his creations were memorable for the wrong reasons. To this day I can still remember his most creative “meal” – ramen noodles mixed with hotdogs and a can of off-brand, meatless chili beans. Somehow … we survived.

What I remember most wasn’t his creativity in the kitchen or the community events. It was his ability to make things feel OK when life got hard. He was always the first person I would call on a bad day.

The final job he held before he passed away in 2021 was as a police dispatcher/correctional officer at the Bottineau County Jail. He always had a way of connecting with people wherever they were at. It never mattered who they were or what they did; he just naturally had a way of talking people through their problems. The inmates gave him the nickname of “Dr. Phil,” which was pretty accurate.

When he passed away at the age of 56, I received messages and photos from all over the world. From his connections in Seattle, the many friends in North Dakota and his old Army buddies from Siegelsbach, Germany, everyone only had incredible stories to tell, which only confirmed to me that he maybe wasn’t embellishing his stories as much as I thought he was.

He left such an impression on everyone he met that still to this day, some people will look at my last name and ask, “Hey, are you Clint’s daughter?” And it’s usually followed by some fantastical story which always included him talking about how proud he was of his children.

Submitted Photo Angie Reinoehl, center, is shown at her graduation from Bottineau High School in 2016. Stepdad Rick Gustafson is at left and mother, Jodi Gustafson, at right.

The most impactful lesson he ever taught me was simple: “You will always come out of the valley and see your sunrise. Find your beautiful thing.” No matter how dark or desperate life feels, there is beauty in everything, and eventually you’ll climb your mountain.

Another thing I’ve learned is that having your name on a birth certificate isn’t what makes someone a father. Fatherhood is a vocation. It’s the decision to love, support, guide and show up for a child day after day.

My stepdad, Rick Gustafson, entered my life when I was 13 years old – right at that awkward stage where tweens are just trying to figure out who they are. He reinforced responsibility, accountability and the importance of making my own way in the world.

Rick has always been somewhat stoic at times, but my view of him changed when my daughter, November, came along. Suddenly, he was Grandpa Rick, and he wound up being one of her favorite people in the world. Watching them both light up whenever they saw each other was one of life’s sweetest gifts.

He’s shown up for our family in both big and small ways. He catered both my father’s funeral and my wedding. He bought me my first car (affectionately named Rhonda the Honda, which I still drive to this day), and he somehow always manages to give the best Christmas presents. And when I was stuck in a hospital more than 500 miles away from home, he went out of his way to come visit me. His love often shows itself through actions rather than words, but it has never been in short supply.

Then there’s my oldest brother, Michael.

When Dad passed away, Mike stepped into a role he never asked for. He became a steady presence and, in many ways, the head of our family. He has mastered the balance between tough love and unwavering support, all while always finding a way to inject humor even when circumstances are difficult.

Over the years he’s opened his home to me, helped me move more times than either of us would like to remember, and is someone I know I can call for absolutely anything (like when I didn’t know what the neon green stuff shooting out of the front of my car was).

And finally, there is my husband, Charles.

We met during the height of the pandemic shortly after I had November. I was a single, stay at home mom in unprecedented times. Life felt scary and there were many uncertainties, but Charles quickly became our rock.

From the moment he first held November as a baby, his heart became tied to hers in a way that could never be broken. He poured compassion, patience and love into her in ways I never expected. He taught her how to ride a bike, celebrated her victories, comforted her disappointments and embraced fatherhood without hesitation.

When our son, Luca, was born, Charles immediately slipped into dad mode as though he had been preparing for it his entire life. Whether it’s bike rides, trips to the Discovery Center, playing in the car, or whatever new adventure Luca dreams up, Charles is happiest when he is spending time with his son. Watching him be a father has convinced me that some people are simply born for the role.

This Father’s Day I’m reminded that fatherhood is bigger than biology. It’s found in the people who show up, who guide us, who challenge us, who encourage us and who love us through every stage of life.

I am who I am because of the fathers in my life – the one who raised me, the one who stepped in, the brother that carried us forward, and the husband who now helps shape the next generation.

To all the fathers, step-fathers, grandfathers, brothers, mentors and father figures who choose every day to answer that calling: thank you.

The lessons you leave behind last far longer than you may ever know.