"How was school, Emily?" my mom asked as I entered the living room, finding her snuggled up on the couch in one of my father's old hoodies and a pair of stretch pants while watching Dad and her old wedding tapes. I knew she had been crying not just because she had a wad of used tissues sitting next to her but because as I moved closer, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her nose was tomato red.

My mom was incredibly pregnant with me on the day of her wedding, and that night, my dad, being the DILF he was with his charming white smile and dazzling deep blue-grey eyes, did something annoyingly sexual that put her into labor. And that's how I got here.

"Mom, do you need to talk to Gregory again?" I asked her. Gregory was my father's twin brother. They were identical in every way, and when we saw him, it was as if we were looking at my father's ghost.

"No," she sniffled. "Talking to Gregory is like talking to your father, and I can't—" she took a deep, shaky breath and sighed. "Besides, his ex-wife hates me, and I promised her I wouldn't talk to Greg again."

"Mom," I scolded. "Gregory is family, whether that witch likes it. Andrew enjoys talking to me, anyway." Andrew was my cousin and my best friend. We talked a little, but it was mostly about other boys in his class when we did.

"That's because your cousin is a dirty-minded teenage boy—"

"Mom!" I stopped her again. "He's gay. He came out to me about three months ago and was too afraid to tell his parents."

   I caught myself staring at the television from behind the couch. Dad, Gregory, and their friends were on the dance floor, showing off, while my mom failed to mention she was deep into contractions and her water was about to burst. They almost looked like Chippendales with their shirts off and their bread rolls abs on display. My father was much more than wasted as he weaved on the dance floor, gliding his feet like a puppet on a string.

"I always thought there was something different about Gregory's oldest son. I didn't figure Andy would be gay, but great for him." My mother's eyes sunk to the floor as a clip of my dad swaying my mom under a disco light filled the screen.

"You know, your father always wanted a boy. He was jealous of your uncle when he found out Jade was pregnant with Andrew." There was silence in the room as we watched my father sway again, drifting to the center of the ballroom floor.

"Oh," I squeaked out.

"Your father wasn't mad. It disappointed your father when we found out we were having a girl, but he got over it when he held you in his arms."

"Did Dad ever struggle?" I asked her. She hesitated, reaching over and slipping her hand into mine.

"Miya, your father had a pure heart. He was a paramedic and enjoyed his line of work, but I often saw his dark side: the depression, the stress, the exhaustion. When Harrison died in the twin towers, he questioned his life choices?"

"How did he cope?" I asked her, curious to know more about my heroic father.

"When you were born, it motivated him to push through everything and keep going." Aww. Gushy moments usually made me queasy, but my dad always made me feel good. Knowing I was his drive to keep going made things even better. "Some days, he had the strength of a wolf and others, he was a little Bambi hunted in the midday.

   I watched my father smear cake all over my mom's nose before he pulled her onto the dance floor, his hands caressing my mother's baby bump as they swayed to slow Latin love songs. People were laughing, crying, and having a blast.

"Te amo para siempre, nena Emily," my father whispered to my mother, barely audible in the video. My father leaned down to kiss my mother's baby bump, and I kicked him right in the face while he chuckled, shook it off, and pressed his hands to her bump again.

"He was a great man," I heard my mother mumble through tears. I wrapped my arm around her, comforting her as we watched the rest of the tape.

My mother's water broke about ten minutes more of the tape during Gregory's best man's speech, and my father and everyone else panicked like chickens with their heads cut off. They rushed an ambulance to the scene while I was ready to burst from my mother's womb.

"That night, your father was incredible. He jumped into action, helping me. Pulling up my dress to see how far you were from entering the world. When they got me in the ambulance, you were about a few centimeters from popping out. Your father rode along with us, ensuring I was comfortable and he was there for the birth."

I watched as the VHS stopped on Gregory. He was on the phone, yelling at 911 to get here as soon as possible, while my father had my mother on the ground, her dress partially up, and he jumped into paramedic mode.

"Your uncle is a hero, too. He helped look for your father after the second building crumbled. He took it hard too." My mom blew her nose into a tissue wad and added it to the building pile on the other side of the couch. "He was mad. Mad that he never got to say goodbye. Your father and Greg got into an argument the night before, and he felt guilty, almost as if he handled your father's death, even though it wasn't his fault."

"Gregory never told me that?" I said.

"That's because he tried to forget about it. He tried to forget about his twin and move on, but he always felt like a piece of him was missing, just like me. I never wanted it to end like this. He was a good man, Miya." My mother rubbed my thigh, comforting me this time as tears started forming in my eyes. My father was a good man, and I never got to know him much because I was too young when we lost him.

I always wished to see him one day, but I never really thought about what happens when we die. However, I believed maybe I would see him in the afterlife. Maybe there was hope and a possibility.

His words stuck with me, "Te amo para siempre, nena Emily," meaning, "I love you, baby Emily." Those are the words spoken in Spanish on the night of my parent's wedding, and every day I wish I could tell him I loved him too.