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She’d always thought he would go out in fire. In fury. Something colossal, something worthy of him - lightning at his fingertips, the ground splitting beneath his feet. That was the way Ash Ketchum was meant to fall.
But there was no fire here. No storm. Only the sterile, suffocating quiet of the hospital room. Only the steady, artificial beeping of the monitors. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest, too slow, too fragile.
It was raining again.
Not the kind of stormy downpour that rattled windows and soaked the earth in thunder. No, this rain was softer - gentler. A whisper of grief, like the sky itself was mourning. The clouds outside cast a dim, blue-gray light through the hospital window, and everything inside felt... muted. Still. Like the world was holding its breath.
Ash Ketchum was dying.
And for all the years he spent defying impossible odds, standing against Pokémon gods and monsters, surviving journeys no one else could dream of - he couldn’t outrun this. Not this time. It wasn’t some battle he could fight his way out of, wasn’t a wound he could tape over or a challenge he could overcome with sheer will.
It was sickness. Something silent and creeping, that stole pieces of him day by day, for months now.
And now, all that remained was this room. These last few breaths. This final goodbye.
Serena sat beside the bed, her hand wrapped tightly around his. She hadn’t let go in hours.
Her fingers trembled with every heartbeat.
"Ash..." she whispered, voice breaking, "Please. Just hold on a little longer. Just a little longer, okay? They - they’re working on a new treatment, they said it might-"
“Serena,” Ash said, and even though his voice was barely audible, it still carried that warmth. That same steady gentleness she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “Hey… it’s okay.”
It wasn’t.
Nothing about this was okay.
His skin was pale, drawn tight over fragile bones. The fever had stripped the color from his cheeks, and the spark in his eyes - his fire, his unshakable light - had dimmed to embers. Every breath came with effort now, shallow and raspy, as though even the air didn’t want to burden him.
He squeezed her hand weakly, as if to say I’m still here.
But for how long?
“I wanted more time,” she said, biting back a sob, “We - we were supposed to grow old together. We deserved forever. I thought we had forever.”
Ash smiled - How could he still smile? - faintly. “We did. In our own way.”
Tears fell freely down her cheeks. “That’s not fair. That’s not enough.”
Outside the room, Delia sat in the dimly lit hallway, hands clasped tightly in her lap. She barely moved, barely breathed. The years had touched her gently, but grief - grief had worn her down like the tide against stone, relentless and unyielding. She had lost her husband decades ago, had learned to live with that hollow ache. But this… this was different. She was about to lose her son.
Her baby boy.
Beside her, Brock leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. His shoulders were hunched in a way that made him look older than he was. Misty sat silently across from them, staring at the ground, refusing to cry - because if she started, she might never stop.
Pikachu was curled up in the corner, his fur dulled, his tail still. His eyes never left the door.
And further down the hall, Bonnie kept watch over a ten year old girl with bright honey blonde hair and wide, tear-filled brown eyes.
Sienna had begged to go in. Pleaded. Screamed.
But Serena couldn’t bear it. No one could.
They couldn’t let her see him like this.
Not when her last memory could still be him smiling, albeit weakly, holding his head up high, laughing like the world, their world , wasn’t falling apart.
Back in the room, Serena pressed her forehead against the edge of the bed.
“I can’t do this without you.”
“You won’t have to,” Ash whispered, and Serena could hear the lie in his voice, could feel the tremble in his hand beneath hers. “You’re stronger than you think. You always have been.”
“Don’t say goodbye,” she said, squeezing his hand so tightly her knuckles went white. “Please don’t say goodbye.”
“I’m not,” he murmured. “I’m just saying… thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving me. For giving me Sienna. For making me believe in forever.”
A sob tore through her chest. “You promised me a lifetime.”
She was being selfish. Disgusting. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.
“I gave you everything I had,” he said, and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment - just a moment - but her heart seized all the same.
She shook him gently. “Ash. Ash - stay with me, okay? Please - just stay.”
He opened his eyes again, barely. His voice was more strained. “I’m tired, Serena…”
“I know,” she whispered, brushing the damp hair from his forehead, “I know, but just a little longer. Please. Just a little.”
His breathing grew shallower.
Each second was a countdown now.
Serena’s whole world was collapsing in on itself - because Ash wasn’t just her husband, or the father of her child. He was her beginning. Her always. Her every heartbeat.
And he was slipping away.
“I wanted to see Sienna’s first tournament,” Ash said weakly. A tear rolled down his pale skin as he let out a gasp. “Wanted to walk her down the aisle someday…”
“She still needs you,” Serena whispered, choking on her grief. “ I still need you.”
“I know,” he said. “And I’ll still be there. I promise. I’ll be there in every sunset, every storm, every memory. You’ll feel me when she laughs like I used to.”
“No-” Serena cried. “That’s not enough! I want you. I want you here. ”
His smile remained, but a soft frown emerged on his brow. She fought the urge to smooth it out, to kiss him until all he knew was her lips on him.
“Serena… can I… ask you something?”
Serena breathed. “Anything.”
Ash, for the first time that day, moved to sit up. Serena jumped to keep him down, wincing at his soft groans of pain, kissing along his hair in apology. He compromised by staring her in the eye.
“Promise me,” he murmured. “You’ll be okay. Please promise me you’ll-” a cough. “You’ll take care of Sienna? You won’t give up?”
Serena’s eyes burnt as she lowered her head to his hand. She hated this. She wanted it all to end. “Ash…”
“Please?” he whimpered, his voice breaking, and she thought that maybe she broke with it, if only she had any sense of what being whole felt like. She had lost that feeling since yesterday morning, when he took a turn for the worst.
She looked up at her husband. Her everything, staring right back at her with tears glimmering in his eyes, and she knew there was only one possible answer.
“I’ll never give up,” she kissed his hand. “Not until it’s over, right?”
He smiled back, content, but there was something wrong with it and Serena couldn’t place what until-
Oh.
He was fading. She could feel it.
“I love you,” he breathed.
“I love you more,” she said, tears soaking the sheets beneath her.
His lips curved faintly. “Not possible…”
She leaned up to kiss his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I wish I could stay.”
He looked past her then, his gaze distant - far away. And she knew.
“No. No no no no - Ash, look at me. Please. Don’t go. Don’t go. ”
But his eyes were glassy now. His chest barely rose.
And then silence.
The monitors began to scream, but Serena didn’t hear them. Didn’t feel the doctors as they pushed in around her. Didn’t move when they pulled her back, tried to revive him, shouted orders, tried
everything.
But it was too late.
He was gone.
She dropped to her knees.
And the scream that left her throat was one the world would never forget.
They let her hold him after.
Once the monitors fell silent, once the chaos faded into quiet murmurs and drawn faces and shaking heads, they let her crawl back to his bedside and cradle him in her arms. He was still warm.
That made it worse.
It made her feel like if she just wished hard enough, screamed loud enough, maybe - maybe - his heart would start again. That it wasn’t over. That there was still time.
But there wasn’t.
Time had run out.
And all Serena could do was hold the love of her life and sob into his hospital gown like a woman who had just lost the air in her lungs, the sky above her, the earth beneath her feet. Because she had.
"Ash… please," she whispered, her tears soaking into his skin. "Please… wake up. Just one more minute. Just one more 'I love you.'"
The world stayed quiet around her.
She stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Until she heard a soft knock. A quiet voice.
“Serena?”
Delia’s eyes were red, and her arms trembled as she stepped into the room. She looked at Ash - her son - then at Serena, and her breath hitched.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she whispered, as her knees buckled and Serena caught her before she hit the ground.
They clung to each other, these two women who had loved him more than life, and sobbed into each other’s shoulders. Serena felt Delia’s hand clutch the fabric of her shirt, felt her whisper Ash’s name over and over like a prayer - like if she kept saying it, he’d answer.
But he didn’t.
He never would again.
They told Sienna the next morning.
Serena had sent Sylveon with Bonnie, trusting her to take Sienna home as the night stretched on. She barely registered the moment they left. Everything was a blur, her body moving on instinct as she filled out paperwork, her signature shaky but legible. Discussions of payments, logistics - things that should have mattered - felt distant, meaningless.
Around her, voices murmured condolences, hushed whispers of “I’m so sorry for your loss,” and “He was so young…” But the words slid off her, weightless, empty. What did apologies matter when he was gone?
She arrived home early that morning, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin. The night had been spent ensuring Delia wouldn’t be alone - Brock had promised to stay with her, to make sure she ate, to keep her from collapsing under the weight of her grief. It was the least Serena could do.
But now, as she stepped through the door, none of that mattered. Only one thought consumed her. Sienna.
She moved on autopilot, silent as a shadow as she made her way to her daughter’s room. When she opened the door, the dim light of dawn cast soft golden streaks across the bed, illuminating the scene before her.
Riolu - Sienna’s ever-loyal and ever-loving partner - was curled protectively around her, his small arms wrapped around the girl’s waist, holding her close even in sleep. At the foot of the bed, Bonnie lay slumped over, having no doubt fallen asleep while keeping watch.
The sight nearly broke Serena all over again.
She swallowed, stepping inside, the floor creaking beneath her. She knelt beside the bed, reaching out to touch Bonnie’s shoulder. The younger girl stirred, blinking blearily before her gaze locked onto Serena’s.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Bonnie’s face crumpled, eyes glistening. Still, she tried to smile.
“Hi, Serena,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. “How are you feeling?”
Serena couldn’t answer. Her throat was too tight, her emotions too raw. Instead, she cupped Bonnie’s face gently, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Bonnie let out a trembling sob at the gesture, her hands gripping Serena’s sleeves for just a second before she pulled away.
Serena turned toward the bed, her gaze settling on her daughter’s sleeping form. Sienna was small, too small, curled into herself like she could keep the world out if she just held tight enough.
Serena forced herself to speak. “Can I sit with her? Alone?”
Bonnie wiped at her tears, nodding. “I’ll be in the living room,” she whispered. “Please… call me if you need anything.”
“I got it.” Serena squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
And then she was alone.
Carefully, she eased herself onto the bed, her weight sinking into the mattress as she inched closer to her daughter. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, filled with the unspoken things she didn’t know how to say.
She barely had time to settle before Sienna jolted awake.
The girl shot up like a coiled spring, fists clutching the blankets so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her breath was ragged, uneven, like she’d been fighting off the truth even in sleep.
“Mom?” Sienna’s voice was hoarse, the remnants of dried tears rough in her throat. Serena’s heart cracked at the realization - she had cried herself to sleep.
Serena swallowed down the lump in her throat and opened her arms. “Hi, baby.”
Sienna fell into her embrace immediately, small and trembling, clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.
Then, the question came.
“Where’s Dad?”
Serena froze.
The breath left her lungs in a sharp, broken gasp. She lifted a trembling hand, brushing Sienna’s hair from her face as gently as she could, willing herself to find the words - the right words .
But nothing came.
Her mouth opened, but only a fractured sound escaped - a breath, a sob, something broken beyond repair.
It was enough - Sienna understood.
Her little face crumpled, her eyes wide with disbelief, with horror, with the kind of pain a child should never have to endure.
“No.”
Serena shook her head, and the moment she did, Sienna screamed.
A raw, piercing sound, filled with more devastation than her body should have been able to contain.
“No! No, no, no - he promised me! He promised me!”
She thrashed in Serena’s arms, wrenching herself away, pounding her small fists against her mother’s chest, desperate, furious, inconsolable.
“He said he’d always come home! He said he’d never leave!” Her cries turned ragged, her fists losing strength, her rage collapsing into agony. “He promised…”
Serena couldn’t speak.
She just wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her together as she came apart. She pressed frantic, desperate kisses into her hair, rocking her back and forth, whispering nothing but I’m here, I’ve got you, I love you , over and over, like the words could somehow make up for the one person who wasn’t here to say them.
Sienna clutched at Serena’s shirt, gasping between sobs. “I want to see him,” she whimpered. “Please. I need to see him.”
Serena squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips to the top of her daughter’s head, trying - failing - to steady her voice.
“I know, baby,” she whispered. “I know. He wanted to see you, too. But… we didn’t want you to remember him like that. He didn’t want that, either.”
Sienna hiccupped, her breath coming in uneven bursts. “But… but I don’t care -”
“ He cared,” Serena whispered, voice breaking. “He wanted you to remember him strong. To remember him as your hero.”
Sienna looked up at her then, her eyes red, her cheeks damp, her entire world crumbling in front of her.
She sniffled, swallowing down another sob.
“Can we bring him back?” she pleaded, voice so small, so desperate, it physically hurt . “Please? Mom, please - I’ll do anything .”
Serena couldn’t take it.
She pulled Sienna back into her arms, holding her so tightly it felt like she’d never let go. She buried her face in her daughter’s hair, her tears slipping silently into the soft strands.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice raw, wrecked, barely more than a breath.
Sienna broke all over again.
And there, in the stillness of the morning, in the hollow emptiness of a world without him, they shattered together.
The funeral came a week later.
It was sunny, of course.
Ash would have liked that, Serena thought bitterly. Bright and clear and warm, even when it felt like her whole world was drowning in shadows.
The crowd stretched farther than anyone could have imagined. Not just friends and family - but trainers from every region. Gym Leaders. Champions. Rivals. Students. People who’d only met Ash once but had never forgotten him.
People he had touched.
Because that was who he was.
Ash Ketchum, the boy who never gave up. Who fought for his friends. Who saw the best in everyone.
He should have lived forever.
Sienna clung to Serena’s side, a small, solemn figure in a navy dress. She hadn’t spoken all morning. Just stared ahead, her eyes hollow, holding a drawing in her hands that she’d refused to let go of - a picture she’d made last week of their family. All three of them were smiling.
Brock spoke first. His voice cracked halfway through, and he had to stop and collect himself before finishing. Dawn was brave enough to follow, her words clipped and quiet, but every syllable trembled. Everytime one of his friends went up to speak, each as sad as the last, Serena wondered if they knew how happy Ash would have been. That all of his friends were together again, all for him .
Then came Delia.
She didn’t write a speech. She just stood at the podium, looked at the sky, and said, “He was my boy. He made me proud every day of his life.”
And then she cried.
Serena didn’t think she could stand. But when her name was called, she walked anyway - legs numb, heart screaming - and looked out at the sea of faces. So many people. So many lives he’d changed.
“I met Ash when I was six,” she said. Her voice shook, but she didn’t stop. “And somehow, he was already saving me, just by being kind. That’s who he was. Kind. Brave. Infuriating. Stubborn.”
A soft ripple of laughter.
She smiled, and it hurt. “He was everything I needed… before I even knew I needed it. He was my first love. My only love. The father of our child. My partner. My heart.”
Her hands gripped the podium.
“I don’t know how to live without him. Sometimes, I don’t want to. But he told me… he made me promise… that I would keep going. That I would take care of Sienna. That I would remember him not like this, but the way he was. Loud. Happy. Relentless.”
She took a shaky breath.
“So I will. For him.”
Her gaze dropped to the casket. Pikachu rested on it, protecting his partner to the very end.
“I love you, Ash. Always.”
And then she stepped down.
That night, Serena couldn’t sleep.
She lay in their bed - no, her bed now - staring at the empty pillow beside her, wishing for a voice, a hand, anything.
She turned over.
Ash’s old hoodie was still folded on the dresser.
She rose, walked over, and pressed it to her face. It didn’t smell like him anymore. Just fabric and dust and something long gone.
But it was all she had.
She curled into it on the bed and cried herself into silence.
Later, when Sienna woke up screaming from a nightmare, Serena ran to her room, gathering her into her arms.
“He was gone,” Sienna sobbed. “He was right there and he was gone and I couldn’t find him.”
Serena hugged her tighter. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
“Is he really… really gone, Mommy?”
A pause. Then: “Yeah, sweetheart. He is.”
Sienna was silent, before a whisper that was more like a breathless sob escaped her. “What if I forget him? What if I forget his voice?”
“You won’t,” Serena whispered. “I promise. He’s in your blood, Sienna. He’s in every part of you. And I’ll remind you of him every day.”
Sienna curled into her chest.
“I miss him so much.”
“I do too, baby. More than anything.”
And they stayed like that until morning.
Ash had once said he didn’t care about becoming Champion as much as he cared about being remembered. About making people and Pokémon alike smile.
And he had.
Serena smiled again, eventually.
Not because it hurt any less. Not because the grief faded. But because every smile was a way to honor him. To keep him alive, in their hearts, in their stories.
Sienna kept drawing him. She battled for him. And when she became the strongest, kindest trainer in the world? She dedicated it to her father, her hero .
Delia kept telling stories. Stories of her son, her granddaughter and how similar they are. How brave and kind her daughter in law is. She told stories of her family.
Pikachu refused to sleep anywhere but Ash’s pillow.
And Serena kept going.
Because Ash would have wanted her to.
Because time may not be kind…
…but love always was.
10 years later
The music drifted on a breeze that smelled faintly of blossoms and memory. Petals floated from the nearby trees as if the world itself was blessing this day.
Serena stood at the edge of the garden, hands folded around a bouquet of baby’s breath - Ash’s favorite flowers. Her golden hair was streaked with silver now, but her eyes held the same warm blue they always had. They shimmered today.
Her daughter was getting married.
Sienna laughed softly across the lawn, her gown trailing behind her like a river of moonlight. She was radiant. And not just in the usual way brides are. There was something else about her today - something familiar. A fire in her smile. A glow in her gaze. Serena saw him in every step she took.
Ash would’ve been wrecked today.
He would’ve cried during the vows, tried not to but failed. He would’ve pulled Sienna into the tightest hug and whispered how proud he was. How beautiful she looked. He would’ve danced too long at the reception, told every guest ten times over how lucky he was to be her dad.
Serena blinked slowly, breathing in through her nose.
There were pictures of him tucked in frames along the aisle. A locket around Sienna’s neck. A small seat beside Delia left open, a red and white hat perched gently on top.
Pikachu sat beside it, older now - fur greyer around the muzzle, movements slower - but eyes bright, watching with quiet love.
Sienna’s voice pulled her out of the memory.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Serena turned, lips parting.
Sienna stood before her, bouquet in one hand, the other slightly raised like she was still uncertain she wasn’t dreaming. Her smile was trembling now, just a little. It was the same look she had when she announced her engagement.
The same look Ash had when Serena had said yes to his proposal.
“Will you come with me?” Serena asked, voice soft. “Just for a moment?”
Sienna smirked, but set her bouquet gently in the hands of Lucario beside her before moving to follow her. “Not an answer to my question, but sure.”
They stepped away from the main path, just enough to be wrapped in shade and soft wind and the hush of the garden around them. Serena’s hands were shaking now.
“There’s something I need you to hold. Just for a bit,” Serena said, reaching into the little clutch by her side and drawing out a folded envelope. The paper had yellowed slightly with age. It was worn at the edges, the ink faded, but the handwriting on the front was unmistakable.
To Sienna, on her wedding day.
- Dad
Sienna froze.
Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked onto the familiar scrawl. Her fingers reached for it hesitantly, as though it might vanish the moment she touched it. She took it from Serena with both hands, reverent, cradling it like something sacred.
For a long moment, she didn’t move.
Then, slowly, Sienna sat down on the low stone bench behind her. Her gown pooled around her, forgotten. She broke the seal.
Serena stood back, watching.
Sienna’s eyes scanned the page once. Then again. Her breath hitched - once, twice - and then the first tear slipped down her cheek.
She pressed a hand to her mouth. A silent sob shook through her shoulders.
She read it all the way through, and then again, her lips trembling now as she mouthed some of the words like she was afraid she’d lose them if she didn’t say them out loud.
And then she broke.
Her whole body curled in around the letter, her forehead pressing to the parchment like if she could just get close enough, she might feel his heartbeat in the paper.
Serena knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, saying nothing.
Sienna clutched the letter to her chest.
“He really wrote this,” she whispered. Her voice cracked like a fault line. “He really… he knew this day would come.”
Serena nodded, tears slipping down her own cheeks now. “Of course he did. Who else has handwriting that bad?” she teased.
Sienna laughed, the sound light as though a weight had lifted off her chest. “I do, Mommy.”
Serena leaned her forehead against her daughter’s. “Obviously, you only got his best traits.”
Sienna was crying freely now, but she smiled through it. A soft, devastated smile. The kind that comes from a love so deep it aches.
“I miss him so much,” she whispered.
“I know, baby.” Serena kissed her temple. “I do too.”
They stayed like that for a while - just mother and daughter, wrapped in the quiet ache of memory and the hush of wind through flowers.
Then Sienna straightened, folding the letter carefully, reverently, and tucking it close to her heart.
“I think I’m gonna have it framed. So, y’know, gotta keep it safe.”
Serena gave her daughter a knowing smile, but decided to hold back on the teasing. “I think he’d like that a lot.”
They were interrupted by a man behind them, clearing his throat.
“Excuse me. I believe they are ready for you.”
Sienna blinked, then nodded. She turned to her mother and reached out.
“Come with me?”
Serena’s heart stuttered. “You sure? You don’t want-?”
“I want you.”
So Serena took her hand, and they walked down the aisle together, arm in arm. Serena’s steps were slow, steady. Sienna’s were brave, bright.
When they reached the front, Sienna leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“For Dad,” she whispered. “He’s here, right?”
Serena smiled through the tears building behind her lashes.
“Always.”
The night fell soft and golden, lanterns swinging in the trees like little stars. Laughter and music bubbled through the garden. Friends toasted. Stories were shared. May had cried three separate times. To be frank, everyone was quite misty-eyed.
Serena found herself alone beneath a tree, her heels kicked off, a glass of sparkling cider in her hand.
“Mind if I sit?” came a quiet voice.
It was Sienna.
Serena patted the grass beside her.
They sat in silence for a moment, mother and daughter, watching the lanterns sway.
“Thank you for the letter,” Sienna murmured. “I… I was thinking about him today. A lot.”
“I was too.”
“I think he would’ve liked Toma,” she added, smiling a little.
“Oh, honey,” Serena said with a chuckle, “he would’ve grilled Toma for hours. Challenged him to a battle. Warned him not to break your heart.”
Sienna laughed. “He definitely would’ve tried to give a speech and cried halfway through.”
“You would’ve been his whole world today,” Serena whispered, voice soft and aching. “Just like you always were.”
There was a pause.
“Do you miss him every day?” Sienna asked.
Serena smiled, and the answer came without hesitation.
“Every single one.”
Sienna leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder, and Serena kissed her temple.
“But love doesn’t end just because time moves on,” Serena added. “He’s in every moment that makes you happy. He’s in every brave step you take.”
Sienna closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For keeping him alive in us. In me.”
Serena let the tears fall, slow and quiet.
“He made it easy,” she said. “He was unforgettable.”
Across the garden, the music slowed into something soft. Toma was holding out a hand from the dance floor.
“Go on,” Serena said, nudging her gently. “Your dad would want you to dance.”
Sienna rose to her feet, kissed her mother’s hand, and made her way back toward the celebration.
Serena stayed there a while longer, beneath the stars, the music echoing in her chest.
She looked up.
“I hope you’re watching,” she whispered. “Because she’s everything you dreamed she’d be.”
A breeze stirred the lanterns.
Somewhere, far above or deep inside her heart, Serena felt warmth wrap around her like an embrace.
And just for a moment, she wasn’t alone.
Dear Sienna,
If you're reading this… wow. You're probably in a dress. And you're probably rolling your eyes that I left something cheesy behind.
Sorry. I couldn't help myself.
The truth is, I always knew I'd want to say something on this day. Even if I wasn’t around to say it out loud.
I bet you look beautiful. I bet your smile lights up the whole world, just like your mom’s always did. And I bet whoever’s standing next to you right now - holding your hand, looking at you like you’re their whole world - is the luckiest person alive.
I wish I could be there. More than anything.
But if I can't walk you down the aisle, if I can't tell you how proud I am while sobbing like a total mess and embarrass you in front of all your friends, then let me tell you here, in the only way I can:
You are the best thing I ever did.
You were light when the world got dark. You were laughter when I forgot how to smile. You are my greatest adventure.
I watched you grow into someone strong and kind and clever and stubborn (you get that from your mom). I watched you chase dreams, fall down, get back up - every single time. You always had this fire. You still do.
And today, you're not just starting a new chapter. You're building something of your own. That’s huge.
But you’re not alone. You never have been.
I hope you carry love with you. I hope you fight for it, like your mom and I did. I hope you find joy in small things. In warm mornings and quiet nights. In your partner’s laugh. In the family you choose. And I hope you know - no matter where I am - that I’m cheering you on. Every step. Every breath.
When you dance tonight, save one for me, okay?
I’ll be there. Always.
Love you forever,
Daddy