Of course, this moving day was completely different than anything I had known before. This was my first real house. Mine, and mine alone. I had gotten a late start, despite barely sleeping the night before. I drove my ancient pickup truck, every pothole and dip in the gravel road threatening to burst my tire. All my worldly possessions rode in the back. Safe and sound in my pocket rested the keyring to my new life, lying heavy against my thigh, a reminder of all the good things awaiting me at the end of this tree-lined path. I was moving in by myself. My best friend, Brynn–who had helped me move into the small apartment I’d rented–was teaching overseas in Korea for the year. We had been texting back and forth ever since I signed on the dotted line and became the proud owner of my dilapidated Victorian. She was excited to visit when she was home for the holidays, and I couldn’t wait to show her all the before-and-after photos of my hard work.

It didn’t mean flying solo wasn’t scary. Being alone with my thoughts was frightening. The darkness I kept at bay most of the time was slowly seeping into my vision, filling my ears with the hollow sound of silence. Dad would be so damn proud.

My dad was the only family I had ever known, and he was gone. He had been the one to tug me back from the ledge, time and time again. He was the one who told me I was worth it, when everything in me screamed I wasn’t. He had been there for me since the day I was born, even when his family turned his back on him for knocking up my mom out of wedlock. Even when my mom ran off, too unstable to be a young mother to a fussy baby. Dad did the best to raise me, but I still found myself depressed as a teen.

But Dad never left. Not even when the shadows took over, knocking my grades down to barely passable, and narrowing my options for college to the local community one. He cheered me on when I graduated, even though my business degree meant nothing to me, and even less in the real world once the pandemic hit. He took me out for dinner to celebrate my new job, waitressing at the diner where he had worked since I was a baby. I took the job feeling like it would bring me even closer to the man I so admired. Plus, a steady paycheck was nice. He held my hand, reassuring me it would be okay, even as the cancer stole his energy, and eventually his life. He had been gone three years now, but I knew he was still looking out for me.