I saw a little boy in oversized pajamas standing in a sunlit living room with a bowl of dry cereal in his hands.

“Dad,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for choosing me.”

There was a lump in my throat the size of a fist, but I got the words out steady, because they were the truest ones I had.

“I didn’t just choose you once, Keegan.” He waited in the doorway.

“I chose you every single day.”

He dropped the bag, crossed the room, and pulled me into a fierce hug.