Lacey’s childhood never felt right. She lived with her mom and her older brother, Nathan, and though a part of her loved her mom fiercely, their home was nothing like her friends’. Her mother drank. A lot. She’d often collapse wherever she happened to be, and Lacey and Nathan would just have to step around her. By age ten, Lacey was used to finding her mom asleep in her blue jeans on the living room floor.
She ached for her father. She never forgot the day he came to get them, the hope that soared and then shattered when he and her mom started screaming about child support. They didn’t get to go with him that day. After that, social services took them. They ripped Lacey and Nathan away from their mother, and then from each other, placing them in separate foster homes. In that new, lonely place, Lacey shrank. Her foster mom would make fun of her when she cried, and all Lacey could do was hug her knees and wish for her dad and her brother.
But her dad was fighting. He went to court, and when her mother showed up drunk, he finally won the custody of his children. Suddenly, Lacey was out of a roach-infested apartment and standing in the yard of a country house. Every night, her dad kissed them both good night and assured them they were safe with him, how much he loved them, and nothing was going to get them away from him, and he actually meant it. When he remarried, Lacey got a stepsister. For the first time, her life felt normal.
Although visits with her mom were unpredictable, on good days, when her mom was sober, Lacey would see the woman she missed the most, her mother. But when she was used to being drunk, there were no calls, the visit got canceled, and Lacey cried her eyes out on Nathan’s shoulder, but eventually her tears slowed. As they grew older, her dad’s personal life got rough. The arguments with his wife grew loud, sometimes ending in shoves, and that made Nathan storm out. Furiously. Regardless of everything, their dad stayed by their side, listening, ready to look after them if they needed him.
Then came Lisa. Her new stepmom. They went to the courthouse and got married. Their house became full of baby pictures, TV arguments, and crayon drawings on the fridge. Lisa didn’t force anything. She was there for them. Their dad still took them to see their mom when he could. One Christmas, Lisa cleaned the living room and invited their mom over. This effort of making space for everyone showed Lacey Lisa’s kind heart. But it was too late. Unfortunately, in 2000, their mom died from drinking too much. Lacey couldn’t believe it. The room felt empty, and she sank to the floor. Their dad held them both close.
In 2003, Lacey had he daughter Breanne. Lacey spent her time feeding her, changing her, and studying for school. Every time Breanne smiled, Lacey felt a flicker of hope. Later, she met Cody, who had a little girl named Keigan. Their homes were mixed: muddy soccer shoes in the hall and squeaky recital shoes in the living room. Through it all, her dad helped out, laughed with them, and made the house feel safe.
In 2016, Cody asked her dad for his blessing. He smiled, rubbed his face, and gave it without hesitation. Years later, watching her dad’s eyes shine at their wedding, she thought about the hard times and little happy moments that had brought them here. Then came the illnesses. Lisa went through surgeries and chemo, and her dad got lung cancer. Even when it was scary, he got up, brushed his teeth, made coffee, and showed up for his children. Lacey, Nathan, and the family stayed close, helping him, hugging him, and holding onto him. They faced each day together. Sometimes it was messy and scary. Sometimes it was quiet and small. But they stayed close, helping each other through everything.
