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The Silence That Connects Us
Iris and Mariana no longer had that same sparkle in their eyes since their father, Brian, had disappeared. At six and eight years old, they were going through grief in their own way—no more night raids to the kitchen to steal cookies, no more conspiring to tease their mother. The house seemed to have lost its music.
“You spoil these little ones too much, Brian!” Linda would often say. “And you always take their side when I scold them for raiding the pantry!”
“I can’t help it, they’re irresistible,” he would reply with that smile that always disarmed his wife. “Forgive me, my love. You know how much I adore you, don’t you?”
That was Brian in all his splendor—the one who knew how to balance family tensions with tenderness. But since his departure, everything had changed. The girls had become quiet, and Linda… Linda simply struggled to accept this absence. Her last memories with him were so painful. She had watched him fade away day by day, helpless despite all the doctors’ efforts. After the diagnosis, the end had come quickly, too quickly.
Promises Whispered in the Twilight
He passed away peacefully one morning, in his sleep. The night before, he had asked to see his daughters at the hospital, wanting to keep them close until the very end. Perhaps an intuition that this night would be different from the others. He had also asked to speak with them privately.
“For my birthday, I want my princesses to look as beautiful as possible. I want to see you in your prettiest outfits. You know, Daddy might not be with you that day, but promise me you’ll look gorgeous,” were his last words that evening.
Linda was devastated. No consolation seemed to reach her. The funeral had been particularly difficult; the very idea of knowing he was buried was unbearable to her. Yet the girls, in their childlike innocence, showed a strength that she sorely lacked.
The day before his birthday, the little ones asked their mother to take them shopping. They wanted to honor their father’s last wish.
“Mom,” said little Iris, “Daddy loved my pink dress. The one he gave me for my birthday that’s too small for me now. I’d like the same one, but in my size.”
“Can you help me choose, Mom?” asked Mariana. “I want it to be Daddy’s favorite color.”
The Echo of a Resonating Promise
“I don’t think I have time, girls,” Linda replied. Grief still overwhelmed her too much to consider a joyful outing.
“But we have to go see Daddy!” Iris insisted. “He asked us to wear something beautiful for his birthday.”
Linda’s eyes filled with tears. Grief had made her forget this important date.
“Did he really tell you that?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes, Daddy wanted to see us in pretty dresses for his birthday. We have to go see him, Mom,” Iris repeated insistently. “Quick! We need to go shopping!”
“When did he ask you this?” Linda was troubled. “I wasn’t aware of this last wish.”
“The last night we were with him,” Mariana explained. “He took our hands and told us he wanted to see us well-dressed for his birthday. I think we should do it for him. I know you’re sad, but will you take us?”
Then she approached her mother and whispered in her ear: “I know you miss Daddy, but we need to do this for Iris. She really wants to wear a pink dress for Daddy.”
Mariana had always been a perceptive child, understanding things that other children her age didn’t grasp. Finally, she managed to convince her mother.
“Alright,” Linda conceded. “Let’s go shopping, girls! Let’s find the most beautiful outfits for Daddy’s birthday!”
“Don’t be sad, Mom,” Mariana whispered.
The Cemetery Where Memories Bloom
The next day, on Brian’s birthday, the girls put on their new outfits and walked hand in hand to his grave.
Once at the tombstone, they noticed two beautifully wrapped boxes, each bearing their name. A small tag indicated they were from Brian.
“Mom!” exclaimed Iris, turning to Linda. “Look, Daddy sent us gifts! Doesn’t he know that we’re supposed to give him presents? It’s his birthday!” And she burst into innocent laughter.
“I think it was important to him, Iris. Go ahead, open your boxes, girls,” said Linda, holding back her tears.
As the two sisters unwrapped their presents, Linda had to suppress her emotion. Iris was smiling joyfully, while Mariana cried for the first time since their father’s passing.
Inside each box was a beautiful pair of shoes, accompanied by a letter from Brian.
The Caress of Transformative Words
“Shoes!” cried Iris. “They’re so pretty, Mom! My favorite color… pink!”
Mariana carefully unfolded the letter and began to read aloud:
Some angels here in heaven are amazed at how beautiful you are! They say you’re the prettiest little girls God ever created. Daddy can see how gorgeous you look in your outfits, and he wanted you to wear these beautiful shoes too. I hope you like them.
I want you to stay the same girls who raided the pantry to steal cookies, hiding from Mom. The next time you come to see me, I’d love to hear your funny stories.
I want you to be happy and smile every day. When you think of me, know that I am in a wonderful place and from there, I can see you and watch over you.
Thank you for coming to visit me and wishing me a happy birthday, my darlings. Daddy loves you with all his heart.
The Silent Heartbeat That Unites Us
When Mariana finished reading, she hugged her little sister. She looked at her mother and thanked her for coming with them. All three held hands, feeling the presence of their beloved husband and father around them, knowing he would always be there.
Linda smiled and whispered, “I love you infinitely,” and in her heart, she thanked her daughters for helping her through this pain and giving her the strength to continue living without Brian.
Sometimes, it’s through the eyes of children that we learn to see beyond absence.