“Daddy said we should wear our prettiest dresses,” Madison reminded her mother as they stood in the department store. At 8 years old, she understood the importance of this shopping trip better than her 6-year-old sister Isla did.
It had been Brian’s last request before the cancer took him—that his girls visit his grave on his birthday wearing beautiful new outfits. Linda had nearly forgotten until her daughters reminded her. Now, watching them carefully select their dresses, she felt both heartbroken and grateful for their innocent determination.
The morning of Brian’s birthday dawned bright and clear. The girls dressed carefully—Isla in a red dress like the one her father had loved, Madison in soft blue. Linda took a deep breath and led them to the cemetery, a place she’d avoided since the funeral.
Then they saw them: two gift-wrapped boxes resting against Brian’s headstone.
“Is that from Daddy?” Isla asked, her eyes wide.
Linda’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected this. As the girls opened the boxes to reveal perfect little shoes and heartfelt letters from their father, the pieces clicked into place. Brian had arranged this final surprise before his passing, ensuring his love would continue to guide his family even after he was gone.
Watching her daughters read their letters—Isla needing Madison to explain the bigger words—Linda felt something shift inside her. The grief remained, but so did the love. And in that moment, she knew they would be okay.
