Instead, he simply became part of my life.
He made breakfast when Mom worked early.
He learned how to braid my hair after several embarrassing attempts.
He attended school plays.
He helped with science projects.
He waited outside dance practice.
He taught me how to ride a bicycle and ran behind me long after he could have let go.
When I fell, he picked me up.
When I succeeded, he celebrated.
And when I made mistakes, he somehow managed to make the consequences feel like lessons rather than punishments.
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