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She had no recollection of seeing her mother's face. It was her Dad who had waited for her on the first day of school. It was him she ran to when she skimmed her knees falling down while cycling. Dad had been the one who told her that afternoon, that she was now a young woman, when she thought she was going to die.
He was the one who had beamed at her from the audience when she graduated. She pretended not to notice the hurt in his eyes when she spent more and more time with her friends. While he pretended not to be bothered by the fact that his daughter was no longer the little girl he knew; she was slowly falling in love. With a guy. With life.
But the day she found out she was pregnant, she dreaded going home. Sam refused to have anything to do with her or the baby. He even questioned whether it was his.
When Dad had found her lying in a pool of blood in the bathroom at home, she wished with all her heart that she was dead. He had held her in his hands, like he used to when she was a little girl, as she sobbed her heart out at the hospital.
And today, as she looks across the lawn where her Dad was pushing his five year old granddaughter on the swing as she screamed in laughter, she knew that she had made the right decision. There were no confusions. Not anymore. He would be the Only One in her life who would stick by her side, through thick and thin.
As the wind carried the sounds of their laughter, she whispered to herself, Thank You, Dad.