Madison, age eight, and Isla, age six, missed their father more than words could express. Their house had become quieter since Brian’s death. No more late-night cookie thefts, no more group activities to make fun of their mother, and no more impromptu, giggly shopping excursions. Simply put, life wasn’t the same without Daddy.
They had always had Brian as their strongest supporter. “Brian, you’re spoiling them!” “Half-serious, half-smiling,” Linda would say. “You constantly sneak them treats.” He would simply chuckle, give her a hug, and respond, “I’ll spoil them for the rest of my life.” They come first, and you are one of them, my darling.
Their small family had been centered around him. However, cancer silenced its heart much too soon. The treatments arrived too late, and Linda had watched helplessly as Isla and Madison slept next to Brian for the last time as he slipped away. “I want to see my girls in their prettiest dresses on my birthday,” he said the night before he died away. Tell me you’ll come show me, even if I can’t be there.
Even if Linda, engrossed in her sorrow, had forgotten, that moment remained with his girls. She was struck like a wave as they brought up Brian’s wish. She had been so overcome with grief that she had failed to recognize the day that was coming. Isla requested that we wear something lovely for Daddy’s birthday. “We must visit him.”
“He asked us the night before he died,” Madison, who was wise beyond her years, continued softly. Mom, please. This is important.
Their tenacity moved Linda, who wiped away her tears and consented to accompany them shopping. She tried to hide her anguish by smiling and said, “Let’s get you the prettiest dresses.” “Daddy needs to realize what he’s missing.”
The girls strolled hand in hand to Brian’s grave the following day while wearing their new clothes. Linda trailed after, silent and dejected. A surprise awaited them when they got there: two exquisitely wrapped boxes at the base of the gravestone. On each was their name, accompanied by a simple letter that read, “From Daddy.”
Isla let out a happy squeal. “Look, Mom! Daddy celebrated his birthday by giving us gifts! He’s so dumb! More wary, Madison turned to face Linda, her eyes asking in silence the inquiry they both knew was there: who had left the gifts?
Linda said, “Perhaps Daddy just wanted to see you smile.” “All OK. Crack them open.
Each box contained a handwritten message from Brian and a pair of lovely Mary Jane shoes, blue for Madison and pink for Isla. Madison’s hands shook as Linda watched, and she started crying for the first time since Brian’s passing.
The letter said:
“My lovely girls,
How fortunate I was to have girls like you is beyond the comprehension of the angels up above. You look much more stunning than I thought you would. That’s something I wish I could tell you in person.
I wanted to complete your ensembles, so I got you these shoes. Even from this distance, Daddy still wants to spoil you.
Don’t tell Mommy, but I’ve been observing her replenish the pantry with your favorite cookies. So I’m hoping for some pleasant stories about late giggles and sneaking food the next time you’re here.
Don’t be scared to have fun, act a little inappropriately, and bring back Mommy’s grin. You will always have me in your hearts, encouraging you.
I appreciate you visiting me. You two have my undying affection.
—Your father.
Isla scowled, unable to read the lengthy letter. “What did Daddy say, Madison?”
After giving her younger sister a hug, Madison said quietly, “He says he’s happy and wants us to be happy too.” He still loves us, too.
With her heart full, Linda knelt next to them. She said in a whisper, “Thank you, girls.” “You reunited me with him… even for a brief period of time.
Linda regained the strength she believed she had lost that day. She had been reminded by her girls that true love never really goes away and that grieving does not equate to forgetting. No matter how far heaven and earth are from one another, it lingers in little shoes, charming messages, and the promise of a birthday visit.