I often find myself imagining where you might be today if God hadn’t loved you more than I did. In my heart, if it had been up to me, you would have lived forever—surrounded by laughter, wrapped in joy, and never touched by sorrow or pain. I would have protected you from every hardship, every tear, every moment of suffering.
Losing you three years ago still stands as the darkest day of my adult life. It is a pain I would never wish on any parent, a grief that words can never fully capture. There are moments when the ache feels as raw as it did on that first day, when the silence feels louder than anything I’ve ever known. Yet even in those unbearable moments, I have come to understand that God’s plans reach far beyond what I can see or comprehend.
I will never pretend that the hurt has disappeared—it hasn’t. Some days are still heavy, and memories sometimes still bring tears, but today, I grieve with a quiet sense of joy and hope, trusting that you are held in God's perfect peace, love, and purpose. I hold onto the belief that God’s will is higher than my own, and that His love for you was even greater than mine.
So today, I remember you with both tears and gratitude—with sorrow for the time we lost and thankfulness for the time we shared. And I rest in the assurance that God’s will is supreme, His promises are true, and love never truly ends.
