A Hug, A Wish, A Belief

Last night, while I stood at the sink washing dishes, Kenzo came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. No warning. No words at first. Just warmth. Just love.

Then softly, he said:

“I want Dad to come back… but I feel like he likes it in heaven.”

I froze. The tears came before I could even respond.

There was something so whole in that sentence — something aching, but also accepting. Kenzo wasn’t just mourning his dad. He was reaching him, in his own way. Not through logic, not through questions, but through love and hope.

I gently asked him to write it down in his diary.
“Maybe” I said, “Somehow, Daddy could read it from where he is.”

And Kenzo nodded. As if he already believed that was possible.

Five weeks since he’s been gone.....




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