I thought I was a good dad—present and steady. Liana’s mom, Dana, left when Liana was six to “find herself.” I didn’t chase her; instead, I focused on being there for Liana. Now twelve, Liana’s growing up fast and tough.
One night, she got sick and curled up on the bathroom floor, clutching her favorite pillow. I stayed with her, and she told me Dana had called—wanted to talk to her but asked her not to tell me. I told Liana she could always talk to her mom and that I wasn’t mad.
Dana later said she might visit, which made me nervous. When they met, I watched from a distance as Liana seemed unsure but hopeful. She told me Dana was different but still familiar, and she wasn’t sure she trusted her yet. I told her that was okay.
Now Liana talks to Dana openly and keeps me updated—no secrets, just learning to balance love for both. That night taught me the power of simply being there. Sometimes, staying close means just lying beside them and not moving.
Would you do that too?
