Sometimes I catch myself watching

 Sometimes I catch myself watching my kids laugh or do something new and I feel this quiet ache in my chest.

Because there is someone who is not here.
Someone who would have loved them deeply.
Someone who would have been proud.
Someone who would have shown up with open arms and a full heart.

It is a strange kind of grief. Missing someone not just for yourself but for your children too.
Wishing they could have known the hugs, the bedtime stories, the special kind of love that only that person could have given them.

So I carry their memory forward.
In the way I love.
In the stories I tell.
In the way I show up for my kids.

Because even if they never got to meet
Their love still finds a way to live on.