We clung to the routines she loved. Breakfasts just the way she liked them. Messy art projects. Bedtime stories she asked for again and again. When she asked careful questions, I answered gently—without details, without confusion. Children don’t need complex explanations. They need reassurance. Consistency. The feeling that their world is still safe.
“Are you still my daddy?”
I held her close and told her the truth—that nothing could ever change that. And in that moment, I understood something I hadn’t fully grasped before.
Family isn’t defined by perfection.
It isn’t built on predictability.
It survives on presence, patience, and the promise to show up—especially when life takes an unexpected turn.
And the question that quietly changed everything came from my five-year-old daughter, Lily.
