Brian had one heartfelt request for his daughters before he passed: “I want my little princesses to look their best on my birthday. Even if I can’t be there, promise me you’ll come see Daddy dressed beautifully.” It was his way of asking to be remembered with love, not sorrow.
When the day arrived, Lila and Maren held hands as they walked with their mother, Linda, to the cemetery. The morning was quiet, the air crisp, and they wore the outfits they had picked out just for him.
Waiting at his headstone were two small, beautifully wrapped packages—each with a name written in familiar handwriting. Lila turned to her mom. “Did you leave these here?”
Linda, overcome with emotion, shook her head. “No, sweetie. I didn’t.”
The girls slowly unwrapped the gifts. Inside were delicate charm bracelets—rose gold for Lila, silver for Maren—each one thoughtfully personalized with tiny charms representing memories they had shared with their father. Lila’s bracelet held a miniature fishing rod, a piano, and a book. Maren’s had a cupcake, a sunflower, and a small camera.
“Where did these come from?” Maren whispered.
Continue reading on next page…