The beginning :: When I met daddy (A letter to my children)

I met daddy just a few days before Christmas back in 2012—my roommate and I decided to take a much needed girls vacation after a very difficult relationship breakup. 

I remember thinking, I’m not in a rush to meet anyone. But there he was, walking on the beach with a red swimsuit and a limp heading towards us, in that moment I didn’t see any of this coming. 

My friend and I were doing cartwheels on the beach and being silly, having drinks and splashing in and out of the water on that warm day in December on the beach in Hallendale. Daddy and his friend peaked from the distance, we didn’t notice them at first but eventually they got closer and it was clear they were coming in to have a piece of our fun .

Daddy’s friend was hard into my friend, which left me and dad chit-chatting on the sidelines. We spoke about everything and nothing. He liked Carrot Cake and so did it. A lot of it is a blur but I do remember thinking after he left that he was interesting, different from what I just experienced, nothing that I was expecting, I was drawn to him — but I wasn’t interested because I knew I needed time to figure out my heart. 

The rest of our time in Florida we spent together. It felt nice. I was wondering what would come of it, but I didn’t want to jump into anything. 10 days later I left. A few days past and he came visit me in Toronto.

I opened the door of my apartment and there he was again. I didn’t think I would see him again, but hey, there he was. We spent the night together — and the next day, and the next.