Heartbreak from my father’s broken promises loomed over my wedding day. Just as despair set in, an unexpected hero stepped forward, turning a moment of disappointment into one of profound love and revelation. This is how I discovered the true meaning of family.

So, my parents split when I was just a little sprout (seven years old, to be exact). From then on, my dad was basically a ghost. He’d promise stuff like park trips, but then bail last minute.

Birthdays? Nope. Most nights were spent wondering if he’d even bother showing up. My mom did her best, but my dad’s absence left a hole that seemed impossible to fill.

Fast forward to when I was older, and Dad’s appearances became even more random. He’d pop up out of nowhere, full of apologies and promises to be a “better dad.” But then, poof! Gone again faster than you can say “empty promises.”

Important events? Missed, obviously. But hey, at least he tried to “buy” my forgiveness with random gifts: dolls, toys, anything shiny to distract me from, you know, his actual absence.