At 19, I was run over by a car, and the accident left me paralyzed. The doctor said I might never walk again, and when my father finally showed up days later, he made it clear he didn’t want to be responsible for me. He left me in the hospital, telling the doctor, “She’s not my responsibility anymore.”
My mother had died when I was 12, and my father had always been cruel and neglectful. I had been working to support both of us since I was 14, but when my father walked away, I was completely alone. Fortunately, I was assigned a wonderful therapist, Carol, who became my surrogate mother. She pushed me through my recovery, and after a year of hard work, I was able to walk again.
But I still had no one to go to. Carol offered me a home, and I moved in with her. Over time, she encouraged me to finish my education, even offering to lend me money for college. I graduated summa cum laude and became a nurse, specializing in neonatal care.
Years later, after I gained some recognition from a news story, my father appeared on my doorstep, drunk and asking for forgiveness. His words were full of lies, and I saw through his act. He had abandoned me when I needed him most, and now he was trying to crawl back in, asking for my help as he faced health problems. But I knew better than to let him back into my life.