Dear Diary,
Victor snapped his fingers at Valerie, his voice raw with anger. Stay away from me! I never promised to marry you, and I dont even know who that child is. It might not even be mine! He gathered his things, muttering that hed be on his way with a jaunty tune humming in his head.
She stood there, stunned, unable to process that the very man whod once whispered sweet nothings and called her his love was now the one hed once called his beloved and sworn the world over to her? In front of her stood a bewildered, angry stranger she barely recognized.
Valerie wept for a week after she waved goodbye to Victor forever. At thirtyfive, feeling invisible and doubting shed ever taste true happiness, she decided to bring a child into the world.
She gave birth to a baby girl, naming her Poppy. The little one grew up gentle and easygoing, never causing her mother any trouble. Valerie treated Poppy decentlyshe fed her, clothed her, bought her toysbut the warmth of a mothers love never truly blossomed. She never held her, kissed her, or took her for a stroll. Im busy, shed say, Im tired, I have a thousand things to do. Motherly affection never woke within her.
When Poppy turned seven, something unexpected happened: Valerie met a man. She even invited him home, and the whole village in the Yorkshire countryside buzzed about how reckless Valerie was being. He was a drifter, not from around here, with no steady job, living wherever the wind took him. Valerie worked at the local shop while he helped unload the delivery vans.
Their professional encounter soon twisted into romance. Not long after, Valerie called her new beau to move in. Neighbours chattered about the woman whod brought a stranger under her roof, wondering what would become of little Poppy. He was a man of few words, and people guessed he was hiding something. Yet Valerie ignored all the gossip, convinced this was her last shot at a womans happiness.
Soon the villagers opinion shifted. The house, which had fallen into disrepair without a mans hand, began to be patched up. Igor, as he was called, first fixed the porch, then mended the roof and repaired the fence. Day after day he worked, and the cottage started to look presentable again. Seeing his industriousness, people started to ask for his help, and he replied, If youre old or hard up, Ill lend a hand. If you can pay, then pay in cash or bring food. He took money from some, canned goods, meat, eggs, milk from others.
Valeries garden thrived, but she still had no cowsshe needed a mans strength. Before Igor arrived, she rarely treated Poppy to cream or fresh milk. Now the fridge held butter, sour cream, and homemilked milk. Igors hands were truly golden; as they say, he was a jackofalltrades. Valerie, never considered a beauty, seemed to glow in his presence, softening, her cheeks gaining a gentle dimple.
Poppy grew, started school, and one afternoon she sat on the verandah watching Uncle Igor at work. Later she walked to a neighbours house and didnt return until dusk, when she burst through the gate, eyes wide. In the middle of the yard stood a pair of brandnew swings, swaying slightly in the breeze.
Is that for me? Uncle Igor, you did this for me? Poppy gasped, hardly believing her eyes.
Its yours, Poppy! Enjoy it! Igor chuckled, his usual silence broken by a rare laugh.
She hopped onto a swing and swung back and forth, the happiest girl in the world. Valerie left early for her shop, and Igor took over the cooking, preparing breakfast and dinner, whipping up pies and casseroles. He taught Poppy how to cook well and set a proper tabletalents he never showed before.
When winter shortened the days, Igor would meet Poppy after school, carrying her schoolbag and sharing stories of his own life: how he cared for his ailing mother, sold his flat to help her, and how his brother turned his back on their family home. He taught her to fish, and in summer, at dawn, theyd sit together by the river waiting for a bite. He taught her patience.
Midsummer, Igor bought Poppy her first childs bicycle and showed her how to ride. Shes just a girl, Valerie grumbled,
Doesnt matter. She must learn, Igor replied firmly.
On New Years Day, he presented her with real childs skates. That evening they set a festive table together, and Poppy shouted with joy, Skates! I have real skates! White and new! Thank you, thank you! Tears of happiness streamed down her face as she clutched the gift.
Later, Igor and Poppy cleared snow from the frozen river, and he taught her to glide on the ice. When they walked back, she threw her arms around him. Thank you for everything, Dad, she whispered. Igors eyes welled, and he quietly wiped away the tears he didnt want her to see.
Poppy eventually left for university in the city, facing the usual hardships of life. Igor was always thereat her graduation, hauling bags of groceries to the city so his daughter never went hungry, standing beside her when she married, waiting by the windows of the maternity ward for her return. He later nursed his grandchildren, loving them as some never love their own kin.
When his time came, as it must for us all, Poppy and Valerie stood together in deep sorrow. Poppy tossed a handful of earth into the wind, sighed heavily, and said, Goodbye, Father You were the best dad in the world. Ill always remember you.
He remained in her heart forevernot merely as Uncle Igor or a stepfather, but as a true father. A father isnt only the one who puts you into the world; hes the one who raises you, shares in your sorrows and joys, and stays by your side.
Lesson learned: Love and responsibility are what truly bind a family, not blood alone.
