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It struck me that Josiah didn’t know about these things. He’d only been nine when Samuel had died. Old enough to have memories of him but too young to remember many details.
“Hey, Dad,” Gabe said softly, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We know today is always hard for you, and we get it. But Josiah and I talked, and…we would’ve been okay staying in school today. It’s not that we don’t miss Daddy, but it’s different for us.”
“Really?” The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, so used was I to being the one to hold everything together for them.
“It only makes me extra sad, and I have to cry again, and I don’t like that,” Josiah said.
“There’s nothing wrong with crying.”
“I know, and I cry sometimes when I miss Daddy extra, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t like that there’s this one day when I have to feel sad the entire time.”
“We know this is important to you,” Gabe said. “So if you want us to be there, we will, but we don’t need to be.”
Wow. I hadn’t seen that coming. I’d assumed they wanted to spend today together like we had for the last five years, but I hadn’t bothered to check with them. Finding out they’d been fine staying at school left me…unsettled.
On one hand, I was proud of the young men my sons were becoming—independent and wise beyond their years. But on the other hand, their growing autonomy left me feeling somewhat adrift. They no longer needed me as much as they once did.
“Thanks for letting me know, guys.” I had to fight to keep my voice steady. “I wanted to be there for you today, like I always have been.”
“And we appreciate that.” Gabe’s eyes were pleading with me not to be angry or upset with him. “But you need this day, and we don’t, and it’s okay for you to take care of yourself too. You don’t always have to be the strong one.”
“Gabe’s right,” Josiah said. “We love you, Dad, and we want you to be happy. Like you want us to be happy.”
“And Daddy would want that too,” Gabe said. “He told us to be happy and not to feel guilty about it.”
I swallowed again. “He did.”
I met their gazes, so full of love and understanding, and felt a surge of gratitude for my sons. They’d shown such strength and resilience since losing their father. “I’m so proud of you two and how you’ve handled everything. It’s been a tough journey, but we’ve come a long way. And if you guys prefer to spend this day in school in the future, that’s okay. I understand.”
Gabe looked relieved. “You’re not upset?”
“I’d never be upset with you for telling me the truth about how you feel. Grief is different for you than it is for me, and it’s good to be reminded of that.”
Their words had struck a chord within me, and as we continued our day together, I reflected on their growing independence and what it meant for me. My role as their father had evolved, and perhaps I needed to shift my focus. Maybe it was time to consider the possibility of finding happiness again not only for my sons but for myself.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a palette of deep orange and blues in the evening sky as the day came to an end. The boys headed upstairs to unwind, and I stayed alone in the living room, my heart aching with the weight of Samuel’s absence, so heavy today.
I sank into the plush armchair overlooking our small garden as memories flooded back like a tidal wave. Our laughter echoing through the house as we chased each other around, play-fighting. Samuel gently rubbing my shoulders after a long day of work. His eyes sparkling when he smiled. Every time he looked at me, I’d felt like the most important person in the world.
“God, I miss you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. It wasn’t the big moments I missed but the small, everyday intimacies that had made up our life together.
As much as I loved my sons and cherished being their father, loneliness gnawed at me whenever the house fell silent. I craved companionship, someone who would hold me close on stormy nights and spend quiet Sunday mornings with over coffee. I needed someone to share life’s triumphs and uncertainties with, like I’d done with Samuel.
Was it wrong of me to want that again? It wasn’t, and Samuel had made that crystal clear, but opening my heart to someone new felt like a betrayal. I shook my head, trying to dispel the doubts plaguing me. My sons had told me how they felt. They wanted me to find happiness again. Besides, wasn’t companionship something everyone deserved? The thought of someone else in my life terrified me, but I couldn’t stay stuck in the past. Maybe it was fitting I would take this step on the anniversary of Samuel’s death.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my laptop and opened it. I hesitated for a moment, then typed “dating website” into the search bar. The results were overwhelming, with countless sites promising love and connection. With trembling fingers, I clicked on one that seemed reputable and began to fill out a profile. If I waited to find love in Forestville, I’d be single forever. No, if I wanted happiness again, I’d have to take the initiative.
Describe yourself the prompt on the screen read. I stared at it. How could I capture the essence of who I was in a few words? It felt vulnerable, like I was laying my soul bare for strangers to judge. But if I wanted to move forward, I had to take this leap.
“Family doctor, widower, father of two amazing sons,” I said out loud as I typed, my heart pounding. “Looking to find a connection and to fall in love again.”
As I filled out my preferences and uploaded a recent photo, uncertainty gnawed at me. How would people react to a middle-aged, grieving man seeking companionship? Would anyone even be interested in getting to know me? And perhaps most importantly, could I open my heart to someone new?
But with every question and doubt clouding my mind, there was also a spark of something else—hope. Hope that someone out there could help me navigate the next chapter of my life. Someone who could understand the love I still held for Samuel while accepting the love I had to offer in return.
“Here goes nothing,” I whispered and clicked the Submit button, sending my profile into the vast unknown of the dating world. My stomach churned with anxiety, but this was a necessary step in my journey toward healing and moving on. Registering on the dating site was more than an attempt to find companionship. It was a declaration I was no longer content to exist in the shadows of Samuel’s memory. I wanted—no, needed—to take risks, embrace the unknown, and find happiness again.
As I sat there, memories of Tomás drifted through my mind: his laughter echoing through the halls of my high school, his athletic prowess, and his eyes lighting up when he talked about his dreams of becoming a model near graduation. We’d never been close, me always observing him from afar, but the memory of him lingered like embers waiting for a spark to reignite them.
