The morning light filtered through my kitchen window on January 15th, casting a warm glow over the room. I sat at my table, staring at the laptop screen displaying three tickets to New York City. The itinerary was set: the Grand Excelsior Hotel, Times Square, for seven nights. Total cost: $5,200. Most of my January pension check, but worth it for the chance to reconnect with my daughter, Emily. It had been ten long years since my wife, Martha, passed away, and I had spent each of those years trying to be enough for our daughter. With a deep breath, I typed in the necessary numbers and pressed confirm.
Soon after, my phone buzzed. It was Emily. “Dad!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and full of excitement. “I just got the notification! Oh my goodness, you actually did it!”
“Of course I did,” I replied, though my coffee had grown lukewarm from neglect.
