Lucky 7 in Heaven

Well, Daddio, it has been over a year since I wrote for you. That doesn't reflect just how often you've crossed my mind. In a way, my grief for you has actually grown because I mourn every version of you that you were not able to live out.

The version of you that watches your child get married.

The version of you that watches your child buy a home.

The version of you that gets old with mom.

The version of you that smiled so proudly in the crowd at my graduation party.

There will always be versions of you that I will meet along this journey of life. The "what ifs" and the "it should've been". There will always be a "you" that will be in the corner of every room, every chapter I enter. I will always sit there and imagine what you would've said and how you would've acted.

I will carry you with me through every step of this life, always.

My new friends will know you.

My future husband will know you.

My future children will know you.

The world I walk into each day will carry a piece of you.

Because to know you, daddio, was to be seen and loved unconditionally. Your spirit deserves to live on. On your birthday, your 7th one in Heaven, I celebrate every part of you that lives on in each of us. The parts of you that I left with people that I've met along the way. I celebrate that you once walked this earth and we were so blessed to know you, to be loved by you, and to be known by you.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, King. There isn't a day I don't miss you, think about you, or talk about you. You were so, so good. I doubt myself a lot. But one thing I do not doubt - you made this world better and you are making the skies brighter.