When Avery first referred to me as “Daddy,” we were in the grocery store’s cereal section.Can we have the one with the dinosaurs, Daddy? She instantly froze, as if she had uttered something inappropriate.
I lowered myself to meet her eye level. “You can call me that if you want to, sweetheart.”
She instantly froze, as if she had uttered something.
prohibited.
She nodded as relief and anguish blended together on her face.
So, yes. She was adopted by me. Six months later, it was formally made.
That child was the center of my entire existence. In the genuine, tiring, lovely way where you’re cooking chicken nuggets at midnight and making sure her favorite plush bunny is always accessible in case she has nightmares.
At the hospital, I moved to a more consistent schedule. As soon as I could afford it, I started a college fund. We weren’t even close to becoming wealthy. However, Avery never had to worry about whether food would be available or whether people would attend her school functions.
I arrived. Each and every time.
That child was the center of my entire existence.
She developed into this intelligent, witty, and obstinate girl who would check the bleachers to make sure I was present even though she feigned not to mind when I cheered too loudly during her soccer matches.
She had her mother’s eyes and my cynicism by the age of sixteen. (The caseworker was handed a little snapshot by the police, which is all I knew about it.)
After school, she would throw her backpack down, get into my passenger seat, and say something like, “Okay, Dad, don’t freak out, but I got a B+ on my chemistry test.”
Leave a Comment