MY MOTHER LEFT ME BEHIND AT AN AIRPORT WHEN I WAS ONLY EIGHT—WALKING AWAY WITH HER NEW HUSBAND AND HIS CHILDREN WHILE I CLUTCHED A BACKPACK AND A STUFFED BUNNY. WHEN SHE RETURNED, MY BEDROOM WAS EMPTY… AND LEGAL DOCUMENTS WERE WAITING FOR HER.

“Gordon isn’t looking for a suitcase, Leah,” Dr. Chen said gently. “He’s looking for his daughter. You aren’t something he carries; you are part of who he is.”

Slowly, the “twisted beliefs” my mother had planted began to wither. Gordon was a man of his word. He attended every school play, even the ones where I only had two lines. He sat through parent-teacher conferences with a notebook and a pen, taking diligent notes on my progress in long division.

He even attempted to learn the intricate art of braiding hair. The first few attempts resulted in what we affectionately called “The Bird’s Nest,” but he never gave up. He’d watch YouTube tutorials until 1 AM, his large, calloused fingers practicing on a doll he’d bought for that specific purpose.…continue reading …