Dear Little Girl,
Today my Dad would’ve been 90 years old.
And maybe that’s why everything morning feels a little tender ~
memory, gratitude, ache, and wonder all braided together.
I miss him.
His voice.
His presence.
His steadiness.
The way he could anchor a room with just a look.
But I also see something now that I couldn’t see then:
God was kind in the timing.
I don’t think Dad’s heart could have handled watching the darkest parts of the storm we later walked through.
So God, in His mercy, let him slip into Heaven before the weight of it ever touched him.
And today, on his birthday, this truth hit me hard:
I handled my hardest season the way he handled his.
With my head high.
With grace I didn’t know I possessed.
With dignity he modeled long before I realized I was learning from him.
When life cracked open…
When fear and confusion swallowed the air around me…
When I had to hold myself and my boys together with shaking hands —
I didn’t smear anyone.
I didn’t speak hate.
I didn’t crumble in public.
I kept walking.
Quiet. Steady. Becoming stronger than anyone knew.
And today, I am proud of her —
that version of me who refused to let bitterness have the final word.
Dad used to tap the kitchen table with one finger and say:
“Duck, it’s the law of radiation and attraction.
You get what you give.”
And in so many ways, that one sentence has shaped my whole life.
Relationships shift.
Some become distant.
Some stay close.
Some carry tender spots we don’t know how to navigate.
But I’m learning something sacred:
Not every gap is mine to close.
Not every silence is mine to fill.
Not every wound is mine to heal.
And I am allowed — completely allowed — to protect my peace.
And on this first day of December,
I’m grateful.
Grateful for healing beneath the surface.
Grateful for the quiet rebuilding inside my marriage.
Grateful for the small miracles happening in my boys.
Grateful that steadiness is returning to my home.
Grateful for the woman I’m becoming — one sunrise, one prayer, one breath at a time.
So today, in honor of my Daddy Boy,
I’m choosing to radiate
light,
love,
peace,
and compassion —
the very things he lived,
and the very things God is still shaping inside me.
Happy Birthday, Daddy Boy.
I hope my light reaches you all the way in Heaven.
