Ten Father’s Days have passed since you died. Four Father’s Days have passed since my husband’s father died. And we close in on the 2-year anniversary that I found out I was pregnant, the only time I would be pregnant for nine glorious weeks before fatherhood was stolen away from my husband, and motherhood was stolen away from myself.

Some days we’d just rather forget. But Dad, if you’re listening, just know I’m okay. I love you. I still remember your voice. I still remember the day you left this world and that moment you reached your hand up and cried even though you couldn’t look at me. I remember. And maybe someday I’ll see you again.