Three Months After

It’s been more than three months since you left.

October 27, 2025 still feels unreal when I say it out loud.

Grief is strange like that. Some mornings I wake up fine. Other days, it sits beside me.

You were my stepfather, but you never made me feel like I was anything less than your own. You didn’t try too hard. You didn’t force affection. You just showed up. And somehow, that was enough to make me feel safe.

I am deeply grateful for that.

I’m grateful for the way you loved my mom. Steadily. You chose her every day, even on the ordinary ones. Watching you love her taught me what commitment looks like. What real partnership means.

Sometimes, I still see you. In small moments. A familiar posture. A habit. A memory that suddenly feels present. For a split second, it feels like you’re still here.

And then reality gently taps my shoulder. Maybe I just miss you. The kind that carries gratitude alongside the pain.

Thank you for loving us the way you did.
Thank you for choosing to be part of our lives.

You may be gone, but the way you loved stays.
And I think that’s why I still see you.