At 19, a car accident left me paralyzed, likely wheelchair-bound for life. My father, an alcoholic who’d forced me to work since I was 14, abandoned me in the hospital, calling me “useless” like my late mother. A compassionate therapist, Carol, took me under her wing, pushing me through grueling recovery. Against odds, I walked again. With nowhere to go, Carol welcomed me into her home, encouraging me to finish high school and attend
college. Inspired by her, I became a nurse, graduating with honors. Years later, my father, now sick and broke, showed up after seeing me on TV, begging for help. I refused, slamming the door on the man who’d left me helpless. Carol, who’d become my true family, asked to adopt me, cementing our bond. My father learned too late that you reap what you sow, while I found a loving home with Carol, proving family is built on love, not biology.
