Mom told me the story. She and Dad had applied to adopt a child. Westchester Family Services had interviewed them. Social workers inspected their immaculate two-bedroom apartment. But lawyers, doctors, stockbrokers and executives all lined up. Dad wondered how an Italian butcher from Pelham Bay and his South Bronx Irish housewife could ever compete with them.
Mom stood face to face with baby me. I reached out and held her finger.
They took me home that day.
Dad’s slowest drive
Of his life
Photograph by Victor Bezrukov