missing k n i g h t in shining armor I the
missed daddy-daughter dances. I missed a genuine father-daughter relationship. I was content with life. I overcame my debilitating stroke without him. I learned how to ride a bike without him. I learned how to swim without him. I learned how to drive without him. Looking back, contemplating my 13 years of life, I learned a lot without him. I became used to the lingering shadow of my father’s absence. I became independent, self-sufficient you could say. I mean, what could I say? It had been 13 years. I came to terms with the fact that he couldn’t be the dad I needed him to be. That was perfectly fine with me. I didn’t need him.
Zoe Terry
was uneasy. When my mom walked in, her smug smile wasn’t there. Her eyes watered like raindrops dripping down from a roof. I could tell something was happening. I couldn’t put my finger on it. My heart was thumping in my chest. My brain tried scrambling all the things it could be. Did I leave the door unlocked? Did my grades drop? All these thoughts were racing through my head. She muttered the words, “Your dad wants to talk to you.” My dad? I didn’t think I was ready. For the last 13 years, I came to terms with not having a father figure. I didn’t need a knight in shining armor. I had my strong, extraordinary mother and godmother who have taken care of me ever since I could remember. It was mind-boggling that after 13 years, he came back. I dreamed of this moment for years. I prayed and cried for this moment. An uneasy feeling weighed over me. Was this it? Was this the moment I hoped for? Was I finally going to get a relationship with my father? There was no direct answer to any of these questions. I sat there staring at my mom, while I aggressively bit my nails, glancing at the uneventful world outside of my window. Honestly, I was distracting myself from my new reality. He wasn’t just going to vanish in the shadows again. He wants his presence to be known. He is Zoe’s father.
I was on the phone with my best friend. We were talking for hours, laughing, smiling, and just having a good time. Her voice was filled with joy that could light up a room around her, but I heard the whispers of my mom as she paced by my door. I gazed up catching a glimpse of her standing in the gap of my doorway with stares as hard as stone. She took deep labored breaths; contemplating opening the door to something she didn’t know if I was ready for. My godmother was next to her, egging my mom on to enter my room. She walked in and took a deep breath. Mom has always been a short, outspoken black woman. Effortlessly one of the strongest people I know. I saw that she “Zoe? Zoe? ZOE!” she called. was hesitant to speak. Gaga, my godmother, has always been one of the most serene My mind was distant from the situation. I and reasonable people I know. I saw she didn’t know what to do. I burst into laughter 106
