The most important photo in our house hangs just above the living room couch. In it, a nervous-looking teenage boy stands on a football field wearing a graduation cap while holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket. That baby is me. My dad was only 17 when he found me abandoned in the basket of his old bicycle with a short note that simply said he should take care of me. From that moment on, he chose to raise me as his own, building a life around a responsibility most teenagers could never imagine.

Growing up, I never felt like I was missing anything. My dad worked tirelessly—often juggling multiple jobs—to make sure I had everything I needed. He learned how to braid my hair, helped with school projects, and never missed a birthday or school event. Even when money was tight and life felt overwhelming, he made sure I knew I was loved. By the time I reached high school graduation, I proudly planned to walk across the stage with the same man who had carried me through life since I was a baby.....