I handed my daughter an emergency pad from my bag, and she rushed to the airplane bathroom, trying to hold it together. A few minutes later, a flight attendant told me she was asking for me. When I knocked gently on the door, her shaky voice said, “It leaked. On my jeans.” My heart sank. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I said and offered her a hoodie to tie around her waist.
Her face was red with embarrassment, but she held my hand tightly as we walked back to our seats. A woman across the aisle mouthed, “Good job, Dad.” I needed that. Later, after landing for my cousin’s wedding, we went to Target for clean jeans and laughed through it all. A sweet, unexpected bonding moment. The next morning, while getting ready, panic hit again—Talia’s white dress was missing. I had taken it out to steam it and forgotten to pack it. We had three hours until the wedding.
We raced through store after store. Nothing. Finally, in a small boutique, we found a beautiful off-white dress. Not the original, but perfect on her. She beamed, and I nearly cried watching her walk down the aisle as a junior bridesmaid. At the reception, my cousin gave a toast. “There’s someone here who reminded me what showing up really means.” He looked at me. “Ephraim, you’re a heck of a dad.”
Later, a woman came up and said, “I lost my dad two years ago. Watching you and your daughter today reminded me of him. Thank you.” Back at the hotel, Talia curled up beside me and whispered, “Today was perfect.” She was right. I learned that day: you don’t have to be perfect—you just have to show up. In the awkward, messy, unexpected moments, that’s when it counts. That’s what they’ll remember.