Was It Enough?

I cried the moment I set foot in the hospital to see him during his final four days. The tears came without warning - sudden, deep, and raw. I had no control over them. Was that not enough to show him that I still care? Otherwise, why would I cry like that?

I read him a letter while he listened. I don’t know how much he understood or felt in those moments, but I needed him to hear it. I needed him to know - even at the very end - that our story still mattered to me.

Victor,

Thank you for being part of my life for the past 25 years, and for the 20 years we shared a home and a journey together.

Even though we’ve been separated for over five years, and there were many disagreements - especially about parenting and other things - I want you to know that I don’t hate you.

I still hold dear the happy memories we once had, especially the time we spent preparing for Kenzo’s arrival into the world. Watching him grow over the past six and a half years has been one of the greatest joys of my life, and I’ll always be grateful that we brought him into this world together.

Looking back at these photos, I’m reminded of all the beautiful moments you and Kenzo have shared. From small adventures in the park to fun days exploring new places - each memory holds something special. The way you always had patience for him, the way you guided him, laughed with him, and just enjoyed being by his side - it meant so much, to him and to me.

I want to thank you sincerely for those memories. And not just for that - for being there during important times, too. I still remember clearly when you took me to the hospital last October, right on time when I was diagnosed with pneumonia. You didn’t hesitate. I’m truly grateful for that moment - and for many others, even if I may not have said it enough.

I also want to say I’m sorry - for the things I didn’t do well, for the things I could’ve done better in our relationship. We had our struggles, and I know I wasn’t perfect. But please know that I never stopped appreciating the good in you.

I’m holding onto hope. I still wish, deeply, that you can somehow make it through this - to see Kenzo grow up, to witness the wonderful boy he’s becoming. I know he would be so proud to make you proud.

Thank you again - for the years, the memories, and for being Kenzo’s dad. That will always mean something to me.

Was it enough?

The truth is, I may never know for sure. But I showed up. I spoke from my heart. I let the tears fall. And if love is measured in presence, in vulnerability, in the willingness to still care despite everything - then maybe, just maybe, it was.

And maybe, deep down, he knew.

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