Blog 9: Dave

Hi again, if you’re reading this, I’m really glad you’re here. As a reminder, this blog series highlights a new person each time—someone who has impacted me in ways I never expected. Every person I write about has, in their own way, shaped me into who I am today. And now, I want to tell you about someone who came into my life when I was eleven and has never once left.

Growing up, I was incredibly shy—especially around men. I don’t know exactly why, but it was just part of who I was. I even refused to talk to one of our longtime family friends for two whole years. Instead, I would hide behind my mom, too scared to say a word. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them; I just didn’t know how to be comfortable around them.

My mom has always been very close to her sister, which meant we saw my aunt and cousin at least three times a month, if not more. My aunt had one son, my cousin Brian, who was the same age as my brother. The five of us were always together—going to church, sharing meals, just being a family. Then one day, my aunt mentioned a man named Dave. I didn’t think much of it at first. But before I knew it, they were getting married, and I was trying on my junior bridesmaid dress.

I hadn’t spent much time around Dave before their wedding, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. But from the moment he started teasing me at the reception, I knew he was here to stay. There’s something about Dave—his presence makes everyone feel a little lighter. He jokes in a way that makes you feel seen, like you belong, like he really cares about you.

A year after they got married, my dad got sick. My aunt and Dave supported us in whatever ways they could. Then, when my dad passed away the following year, they became even more important to us—something I hadn’t even thought was possible.

When my dad died, they stepped up in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. That first Christmas without him could have been unbearably lonely. But instead of just the three of us sitting around the tree, we were surrounded by ten people who loved us. They knew what we needed without us having to ask. And that summer, we found our escape. Every weekend, we went to the beach together. Sundays meant driving out to the North End, knowing that for at least a few hours, we could just be—wrapped in the comfort of the people who loved us the most.

Dave and my aunt got married when they were almost forty, so he never had kids of his own. But in so many ways, he became like a father to my brother and me. Any time we needed something—big or small—he was there. No questions asked, just unwavering support.

Since the day he stepped into our lives, there has never been a moment where I doubted that Dave would be there when I needed him. Because that’s just who he is. When he saw a gap, he filled it. When he saw we needed him, he showed up. No hesitation, no second thoughts—just love.

About a year ago, a family friend’s great-granddaughter suddenly needed a home. She was just one year old, and no one in her immediate family could take her in. At almost fifty years old, my aunt and Dave didn’t think twice. They stepped up once again, providing her with everything she needed—a safe home, food, toys, stability, and, most importantly, love.

At first, they were just fostering her. But love has a way of making things clear. The first time she called my aunt “Mama,” they knew—this little girl was theirs. No one else was fighting for her, but my aunt and Dave? They were willing to move mountains for her. Custody battles are never easy, and even when the biological mother wasn’t fighting for her, the system still made it hard. But they never gave up. They fought, they showed up to every court date, and they kept pushing forward because they knew she was worth it.

And after a year of navigating the complicated world of fostering, they were granted full custody. Now, they have the peace of knowing she is theirs forever. The journey isn’t over—they’re still working through the legal process to adopt her fully—but for all intents and purposes, Kahlani is home. She’s with the people who love her the most.

Knowing that people like Dave exist in the world gives me hope. He walked into a family that had been through unimaginable loss, and instead of being overwhelmed, he embraced us. He never once complained. Instead, he stepped up as a father figure to my brother and me, even though he had only known us for a little over a year. And then, when life presented him with another child in need, he and my aunt didn’t hesitate.

Dave is the kind of person who will tease you until you’re crying from laughter. And when he does, you know you’re in. You know you’ve got someone who will never leave your side, someone who will do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay.

Thank you, Dave. For stepping up when I needed you the most. For showing me that sometimes, people do stay.