And We Have Each Other

Just before we turned off the lights for bed tonight, I turned to Kenzo and said with a soft smile,

“Guess what, babe? I didn’t cry today.”

He looked at me calmly and replied,

“That’s good, Mum. I don’t want you to grieve too much.”

His words were gentle, but they reached deep.

I asked him why.
Why didn’t he want me to grieve too much?

And his answer was simple.

“Because, Mum, we still have a lot of family - in Vietnam, in the US, and here.”

I wasn’t expecting that. But it melted my heart.

In his little voice, I heard perspective. Strength. A kind of hope that doesn’t erase the sadness but balances it.

I pulled him into my arms, wrapped him in the warmth only a mother can give, and whispered,

“And we have each other too, babe.”

That’s what we hold on to now.
Not just memories.
But love.
Family.
And each other.

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