In a touching tribute to their father’s last wish, two sweet young girls visited his grave on his birthday, donning charming outfits just for him. Much to their surprise, they discovered two delightful boxes with their names on them, brimming with something unexpected.
Little Isla, aged six, and her older sister Madison, aged eight, deeply missed their beloved father Brian. Since his departure to the heavenly abode, nights filled with giggles over stolen cookies and ice cream, mischievous teaming-up against their mom, and joyful shopping trips just weren’t the same without him.
Brian’s wife, Linda, often playfully chided him, “You’re spoiling those girls, Brian! Why do you three team up against me? I know you sneak treats for your little angels!”
With a wide grin, Brian would reply, “As long as I’m around, I’ll spoil them endlessly! They will always be my priority. I’m sorry, darling, but you have a little competition. But you know I adore all my girls, including you,” as he pulled Linda into an affectionate hug.
Such was Brian—always the peacemaker and a family man through and through. When he passed away, the vivacious laughter in their home gave way to a silent void as Isla, Madison, and Linda grappled with his loss.
Linda’s last memories of Brian were heart-wrenching, witnessing his struggle against cancer. Despite determined treatments, the illness ultimately claimed his life.
Death cannot break the bonds built with love.
As Brian’s health faded, he wanted to hold his daughters’ hands one last time. On a particular evening, he had asked Linda to let the girls sleep beside him in his hospital bed. Perhaps he realized it was their final night together.
The following morning, when Brian didn’t awaken, the doctors solemnly declared, “Time of death: 4 a.m. Tuesday…” As Linda heard those words, her heart shattered. Brian was gone, never to come back, and Linda’s world crumbled.
Struggling with gripping grief, Linda found it challenging to move forward, but her daughters showed immense resilience. They had attended Brian’s funeral, while Linda couldn’t bear to see him lowered into the earth.
Brian’s final wish echoed in the tender memory he left behind, “On my birthday, I want my little girls to look their prettiest, and I’m curious to see what they’ll wear. Do you promise to come to Daddy and show me your beautiful outfits? Even if I’m not around, promise me you’ll look your best,” he had said, with a smile.
It was a promise the girls intended to keep, insisting that Linda take them shopping the day before his birthday.
“Mommy,” little Isla requested. “Daddy loved me in red. He gifted me a red dress for my birthday. Can I have another red dress?”
“You can pick for me, mom,” Madison chimed in. “Make sure it’s Dad’s favorite color.”
Linda hesitated, “I – I don’t think I have the time, girls,” still mired in sorrow and struggling to embrace closure.
“But Daddy wanted us to visit him!” Isla pressed. “He asked us to dress beautifully on his birthday. Please, Mommy!”
Tears welled up in Linda’s eyes as she realized she’d forgotten Brian’s birthday in the maw of her grief.
“What did he say?” Linda asked through her tears.
“He wished to see us in pretty dresses on his birthday to remember him,” Isla stated earnestly. “Hurry! We need to go shopping!”
When she finally understood Brian’s last request, Linda agreed, albeit with a heavy heart and stirred emotions.
“Alright then,” she conceded. “Let’s pick the prettiest outfits for you girls, so Daddy remembers he has two beautiful daughters looking their best.” Tears overflowed as the girls enveloped their mom in a comforting hug.
“Daddy doesn’t want you to be sad, mom,” Madison whispered, soothingly rubbing Linda’s back.
On Brian’s birthday, adorned in their new treasures, the girls clutched hands and walked to Brian’s resting place, with Linda trailing pensively behind.
Right by Brian’s grave, they found two neatly wrapped packages with their names embossed on top—a surprise labeled from Brian.
“Mommy!” Isla beamed, “Daddy left gifts! So silly, doesn’t he know we should be gifting him?” she giggled.
Madison exchanged a knowing look with Linda, realizing Brian hadn’t sent the packages from beyond.
“Well, perhaps he missed you both. Go ahead and open them, girls,” Linda encouraged with a smile, albeit one masking tears.
As they excitedly opened the packages, Linda’s tears of grief mingled with a bittersweet smile. Isla’s eyes sparkled with joy as Madison wept—the first time she cried since Brian’s death.
Inside were enchanting pairs of Mary Janes and heartfelt letters from Brian.
“Shoes!” Isla enthused. “And they’re pink! My favorite color!”
The letter read:
“My dearest girls,
Angels in heaven are awestruck by your beauty! They say you are the most precious beauties God has graced us with. I’m looking down and I can see how lovely you look today. To add a sparkle to your outfits, I got you some shoes. I hope you love them as much as I love you.
Though I’m not with you physically, I’m always in your hearts. Don’t think daddy’s not aware that you’re skipping cookies and ice cream. Don’t tell mommy, but she did restock the pantry with goodies. Next time you visit, I want tales of your cheeky indulgence. Daddy insists on mischief even in my absence!
Thank you for visiting on my birthday, my dear girls. I miss you every day.
With all my love,
Brian.”
Isla waggled the letter, feeling overwhelmed. “Madison, tell me what daddy wrote?”
Madison wrapped her arms around Isla. “Daddy told us that he’s happy and wants us to be happy too, dearest Isla,” she translated. Then, turning to her mother, Madison whispered, “Thank you for making this happen, mom. We know these gifts are from you. We love you.”
Linda smiled warmly and whispered back, “I love both of you,” grateful to her daughters for helping her take this essential step forward in overcoming her grief.
This story reminds us that the bonds of love withstand even the deepest loss.
