Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months.
Dad was always busy with work, but he made time for me every single day.
He learned to braid my hair, even though his attempts always came out lopsided and messy.
He went to my parent-teacher conferences, sitting in a room full of moms and taking careful notes in his leather notebook.
On weekends, he took me to the amusement park.
He even rode the carousel with me, even though his face was pale the whole time, and he gripped the pole like it was a lifeline.
Once I had a fever in the middle of the night. He stayed up with me all night, holding an ice pack to my forehead.
When I woke up, he was asleep in the chair next to my bed, still holding the pack.
Sometimes I'd get up to get a glass of water and hear him talking on the phone in his
