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I called the school hoping there was some alternative. Maybe moms could attend. Maybe grandfathers or uncles. The secretary’s response destroyed me.
“But my daughter doesn’t have a father. She’s never had a father.”
“Then perhaps this event isn’t appropriate for her. There will be other school activities she can participate in.”
I hung up and cried for an hour.
That night I had to tell Sita she couldn’t go. Had to watch her face crumble. Had to hold her while she sobbed and asked me why her daddy didn’t love her enough to stay.
“Am I not good enough, Mommy? Is that why I don’t have a daddy like everyone else?”
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