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“Mom, Evie and I were talking, and we were wondering if we could have our party at the park,” Miles says as I go through his clothes, separating the dirty from the clean so I can do the laundry.
“Yeah,” Evie agrees. “Miles wants to play, and I want to paint with my friends.”
Since I haven’t made any plans and throwing one party instead of two will make everything easier, I have zero issues with that. “Sure, make a list of who you’d like to invite, and we can figure it out.”
A little while later, my phone goes off with a text from Brody, asking if the kids have gotten home, and I send him a picture of them scribbling down their list at the kitchen table.
Brody: Miss you in our bed already, but I’m glad they’re home with you again. I know how much you missed them.
I send him a text back, telling him how much I miss them as well, and then put my phone down so I can get a load into the washer and start dinner.
The kids and I spend the evening catching up as they show me all the photos they took with their iPads. After they take showers, we settle in on the couch and watch a movie. Evie falls asleep halfway through, but Miles is still awake at the end. I carry Evie to her bed, kissing her good night, and then join Miles in his room, where I find him sitting in his bed, looking at a piece of paper.
At first, I assume it’s his list of friends he’s planning to invite to his birthday party, until I get closer and see it’s the letter Peter wrote him before he died—well, a copy of the letter. I put the original away so nothing would happen to it. It’s been a while since he’s pulled it out, so I’m not sure what’s going through his head until he looks up at me with tears in his eyes.
“Grammy told Papa you have a new boyfriend. Does that mean I’ll have a new dad?”
His words have me freezing, my heart stammering in my chest. I wasn’t expecting this, and I have no idea how to answer him. One thing’s for sure, Beatrice and I will be having a conversation about being careful of what she says around my kids. They’re getting older and can hear and understand what’s being said.
“Nobody,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed and framing his face. “And I mean, nobody will ever replace your dad. He was your dad since the day I found out I was pregnant with you, and he’ll be your dad forever. He loved you so much, and nobody can ever take his place.”
“Okay, good,” he says softly, sniffling back his tears. “I don’t want a new dad. I want my dad back even though I know I can’t have him.”
My heart cracks in my chest at his words, knowing exactly how he feels. Then guilt fills those crevices because, unlike Miles, who can never replace his dad, I’ve replaced my late husband with Brody and Hayden in many ways. Whereas I used to spend hours thinking about Peter, I now think about them. My heart, that once upon a time only beat for my late husband, now beats for two other men.
“I miss him,” Miles murmurs, glancing down at the letter that’s never going to be enough to quell the need he has in him to feel like his father is here with him. He’s gone, and nothing will ever bring him back.
“Me too,” I tell him honestly. “Every single day.”
“Can you read me his letter?” he asks like he used to when he was little and couldn’t read. Now, he’s old enough to read it on his own, but I know he’s not asking because he can’t read it. He’s asking because he doesn’t want to be alone in his thoughts and feelings. Nobody wants to mourn alone.
“Of course,” I tell him, settling next to him against his headboard. I clear my throat and then begin reading Peter’s final words to his son.
Dear Miles,
I’m writing you this letter so you have something from me once I’m gone. Words will never be enough, but it’s all I have to give you. I love you, my boy. You, your mom, and your sister are my entire world, and I want you to always remember that. If you’re reading this, it’s because I’ve gone to heaven. It’s okay to be sad. I’m sad. But once you’re done being sad, I want you to be happy again and know that I’m watching you from heaven.
When you give your mom a kiss and a hug, make sure you give her two—one from you and one from me. Right now, you’re four years old, but one day, you’re going to grow up, and I always imagined being there as you did. Since I can’t be there, here are some things I want you to know:
