My Grandpa Narrative
“No word kiddo.” she replied sadly.
We drove home in unusual silence, and she dropped me off at my door. I trudged through the front door, and dropped my backpack on the floor in the living room. My keys lay on the front table, and I practically sprinted to the kitchen to see my grandpa. He stood in front of our island, with a chocolate cake. I raced around the island to hug him.
“Did it go through?” I questioned.
“Finally, with flying colors.” He reassured, “Congratulations.”
My birth certificate laid on the kitchen table still, with mailing addresses on it that would send it to the state court house to change my family information. Sending it would seal the deal, and I would officially be a part of a real family for the first time in my life. Sitting at the kitchen island, eating cake, I felt the anxiety I had carried with me throughout the day melt away, and marveled at how different my life had become fourteen hours later. Within the day, I was given a family to be a part of, and reassurance that my mom would never attempt to take that away from me ever