Later that night, as we walked back to the car, my dad told me my mom would have loved it. I apologized for ever being ashamed, and he smiled softly, telling me he had only ever wanted me to be proud of myself. The next morning, messages poured in calling him a hero, but at home, nothing had really changed.
He was still humming over his coffee, getting ready for work. The difference was me. I finally understood that dignity isn’t about titles—it’s about love, effort, and showing up every day.
And this time, when they laughed, it no longer belonged to them.
