The Eve of Level 7

It’s the night before Kenzo turns seven — the eve of another milestone, another “first” without his dad.

This time last year, everything was different. I was in the ICU, weak and breathless with pneumonia. It was Vic who insisted on taking me to the hospital, despite how much he was already managing on his own. I didn’t realize how serious it was until days passed and I was too frail to attend Kenzo’s 6th birthday at Scitech. Vic made sure the day still went ahead — because that’s who he was. Steady. Quietly strong.

And now, a year later, he’s no longer here.

Every September used to begin with the same rhythm — Vic and I planning Kenzo’s birthday together. He was always the practical one, booking venues and sorting logistics, while I focused on the creative bits — the theme, the design, the details that brought everything to life. He’d laugh and tell me I had a knack for it, even when I’d stress over fonts or colours.

This year, I’ve chosen to honour him with a theme he would’ve loved: “Level 7 Unlocked.” A nod to the gamer dad who spent quiet nights building digital worlds, the same world that Kenzo now carries a spark of in his own imagination.

Our venue this time is a little café in the Swan Valley — the one Kenzo and I stumbled upon earlier this year. There are farm animals to pet, a big playground to explore, and a peaceful pond that catches the afternoon light just right. I remember inviting Vic to come along that day, but he couldn’t make it. I sent him photos of Kenzo pretending to be a photographer, capturing the world through his tiny lens. I like to think he smiled when he saw them.

Now, as I prepare for Kenzo’s big day, I find myself doing what Vic once did — the planning, the lists, the details — while still holding space for the love that made all this possible. I’m both mum and dad now, learning to carry the laughter, the joy, and the warmth he left behind.

This weekend, when Kenzo blows out his candles, I hope Vic will be there too — somewhere unseen, smiling proudly, whispering,

“Level 7 unlocked, buddy”

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