Little Chloe’s Third Birthday
“Daddy – Pop-Pop– why do we wook wike girls?”
For the first 1000 or so days or my life, I was a quiet little lad named Chad Kershaw. My whole life was my dad Luke and my “pop-pop” Joe.
At that point I had no concept of “organized crime. “ I was blissfully unaware of my grandfather’s role as a district attorney ridding New York of the local mob , or my dad as a heroic DEA agent. And fortunately, I had no idea what death was – and how a hit man had taken my birth mom and “Mom-Mom” from me and had left us three sad males.
Witness protection agents had recast us Kershaw men as mature beauty Julia Morgan, her daughter, pretty single mom Lisa Morgan, and Lisa’s pride and joy, me.
“You’re so precious, my little angel,” Julia cooed in a well-practiced voice. “Chloe, honey, let’s take a picture of you, Mommy, and Mom-Mom, OK?”
Almost 2 decades later , I remember taking that photo with my family. Not only did our new identities keep us safe, it made us closer. My mom and grandma may not have ever been little girls, but they threw all of their love and affection into raising me.
In time, they also sought validation as women. By the time I was ten, both had fallen in love with handsome men, and I enjoyed my frilly flower girl dress at their weddings.
And now it’s my turn to be the beautiful bride. Two sad men and one lonely little boy all turned out to be beautiful, blonde, and the happiest three women you ever known!