I figured out how to braid her hair without pulling too hard, though it took many uneven attempts.
I started planning a future that included all three of us. I bought an engagement ring. I imagined holidays, graduations, quiet evenings where nothing dramatic happened because love had settled into something steady and safe.
Laura got sick. And not the kind of sick you recover from with rest and time. The kind that rearranges priorities and steals the future inch by inch. We fought alongside her, but love is not always enough to keep someone here.
On her final night, she held my hand with what strength she had left and asked me to promise her something.
“Take care of my baby,” she whispered. “You’re the father she deserves.”
I promised her. And I meant it with everything I had.
Becoming a Father in Every Way That Matters
After Laura passed, the house felt impossibly quiet. Grief settled into every room. Grace crawled into my bed some nights, silent tears soaking into my shirt. Other nights, she pretended to be brave, and I pretended I believed her.
I adopted her legally, but the paperwork only reflected what was already true in our daily lives.
I was her father. I packed lunches. I helped with homework. I showed up to school events and doctor’s appointments. I learned to be both strong and gentle, sometimes within the same breath.
Continue reading…
