A New Beginning: My Journey with Addy

Addy walks to the end of the block and turns for one last wave before she disappears from sight. I wave back, then duck into a nearby alley to check that no one else is around. I pull out great-great-granduncle Charley’s coin and look at the date. 1864, the year I learned what the word “family” really means. I rub the numbers between my fingers, and everything starts to spin.

When I open my eyes, I am back in my own bedroom, still wearing my polka-dot pajamas. The electric lights feel almost too bright after all those candles and lamps, and warm air drifts up from the vents and settles around my toes. I feel unbelievably lucky to be so comfortable. I am home.

I throw open my door and race to the bathroom, where Danny is floating his toy dinosaur in the sink. I tell him to hurry up, rubbing his head until he shuts off the tap and frowns at me. I grab his wet hand and pull him toward the living room, where Gran and Grandpa are sitting on the sofa in front of the laptop.

Gran asks what all the ruckus is about, just as we hear a car pulling into the driveway. Mom comes in juggling her books and bags, and I throw my arms around her before she can set anything down. Grandpa mentions that Dad emailed to say he will be running later than usual tonight.

Mom drops everything to hug me back, then flops onto the sofa and kicks off her shoes. Danny climbs into her lap, and I squeeze in between her and Gran. Surrounded by the people I love, I feel Dad’s presence too, even though he is miles away.

Mom asks what we’re all up to. Nothing special, I tell her, looking around at everyone. We’re just spending time together. But inside, I know that being together is actually very special.