Lancaster – 24

The Daddy's Girl
Elizabeth Ann Stabler

I know my dad is going to wake up some day, and he is going to be all right. Technically, I guess I should say I believe it, but it's such a deeply held belief that I might as well say I know it. I can't explain why my faith is so strong, and I can't describe the certainty I feel; but if I could, no one would doubt it. It is as sure and as strong inside me as my own heartbeat.

That's why I asked the courts for a restraining order when my mom wanted to cut off his life support. I don't blame her, and I can't forgive her because as far as I am concerned, there is nothing to forgive. He was so sick, and the doctors were telling her that all he could feel was pain. I know she was just doing what she thought was best for him, for all of us. I also know she was wrong, and I couldn't let her kill him.

Casey Novak, well, Casey Novak-Fitzgerald, now, recommended a lawyer for me. Barry Moredock took my case for free, which I think is hilarious and ironic considering how many times he's done the same for people my dad and Olivia arrested. He's a good man, and a good lawyer. I would have known that even if Casey hadn't told me, and not just because he won. He really listened to me, he counseled me, he comforted me, and he respected my wishes in court and never attacked my mother's character or questioned her motives. He didn't drag my sisters and brother into it, either, and he tried to convince the judge not to subpoena them. He understood that, as much as I wanted to win, I knew my father wouldn't want me to hurt my family in the process.

When he found out that Mom had never filed the divorce papers that Daddy had signed, I thought it was over. My whole case rested on the argument that she was no longer his next of kin and therefore had no legal standing to decide his fate. I don't know why her lawyer never mentioned it in court, but she didn't. She just kept arguing that I was too young to make responsible, educated decisions;

The first thing I did was move Daddy out of that awful hospital and into The Brain Injury Center. I knew they would take better care of him. At the hospital, their goal was to keep him comfortable until he died, and while they did their best to kill him, they never did make him very comfortable. At TBIC the ultimate goal is to help him recover. They do a good job, but they have so many patients that they can't do everything for any of them. That's why I put off going to college, so I can be here to pick up the slack.

I never told Mom or anyone else what I know about the divorce papers. I suppose she has her reasons for keeping it a secret. Mr. Moredock never actually said they were divorced in court, so the judge can't charge anyone with perjury; but if he ever finds out that they are still legally married, I could lose my rights as Daddy's medical guardian. Then there's no telling what would happen, because there's no guarantee that the courts would give them back to Mom.

Lancaster – 25

The past five years have been really difficult. I miss my dad. He wasn't there when I made the varsity girls' basketball team as a freshman, when I started every game of my sophomore year, when I messed up my knee as a junior, or when I came back to make the All-City team as a senior. He's missed piano recitals, school plays, my junior and senior proms, seeing me get crowned homecoming queen, and my high school graduation. I was in the top ten and got to wear an honor cord. He's never even met one of my boyfriends, not that there's been a steady parade of guys or anything. I'm not sure I'll ever get married unless he is there to give me away.

When I was little, he used to let me paint his finger- and toenails. Once, when I was home sick from school and he happened to have the day off, he even let me put makeup on his face. When his partner at the time, a giant Italian man named Alphonse Bennetto, stopped by, he even answered the door without washing it off. He probably looked like a clown with all the lipstick and rouge I had on him, but he didn't care. He's such a strong man, so macho, but he was a terrific playmate.

He used to read to me when I was little, all kinds of things. My favorites were 'Twas the Night Before Christmas because he sounded just like Santa when he read the reindeer's names, and Olivia, the book about the pig, even though I was a little too old for it, because he seemed to enjoy it so much. We had tea parties and played hide and seek and even dress up. I have this one picture of him, it's just too funny. He's got on jeans and a sweatshirt with lipstick, a feathered pink boa, costume earrings, and a tiara.

He wasn't home much because of his work, but when I was little, he used to cram so much into the time he had with us that I think he welcomed the chance to go back to work so that he could get some rest. Then things started to change. He didn't talk or joke as much, and he didn't seem very happy. I knew he and mom weren't getting along, but I was still surprised when she left and very hurt that he would let her take us away from him. I hope some day he can explain what happened to me.

When I was little, my brother and I shared a bedroom. We used to sleep with the door open because he was afraid of the dark. In the mornings, I could lie in bed and watch Daddy shave. Once, he caught me watching him, and he came over when he was done and kissed me good morning. It became our little ritual, that secret moment when no one else was awake. Daddy never said anything. He just gave me a kiss on the forehead and smiled at me before he went downstairs for breakfast. Dickie was always sleeping like a log and never knew he was there.

Now, I choke whenever I smell his aftershave because I just miss him so much.