Forever in My Heart, Dad

12/27/2025

MERRY CHRISTMAS Mom and Dad in heaven!! We love you. We miss you. Thank you for the beautiful Christmas memories

12/26/2025

I miss you,every single day…

12/26/2025

There’s an empty space under the tree where your jokes used to live, you teasing us about shaking the boxes too early.
Now I sit quietly and run my fingers along the ribbons,
wondering what you would have picked for me this year.
The greatest present you ever gave me, Dad, was teaching me that presence matters more than presents.

12/26/2025

12/26/2025

I miss my Dad's laugh, his voice, his hugs. Just thinking of you Dad and wishing you were still here

12/24/2025

Some nights, I light a candle and think of you, Dad.
The flame flickers softly, and it feels like my heart does the same.
Christmas arrives again, wrapped in lights and music,
yet joy feels distant when you’re not here to share it.

The tree stands tall, the house looks warm,
but there’s a quiet space nothing else can fill.
I miss you in the stillness.
I miss you in moments that are supposed to feel happy.

Your place remains empty,
your voice only echoes in memory.
And the ache of missing you hasn’t learned how to fade.

Every holiday carries your absence.
Every silent night carries my thoughts of you.
And every gentle glow of this candle
reminds me that love doesn’t disappear —
it simply learns how to hurt quietly.

Dad, I carry you through every Christmas,
with longing instead of celebration,
with memory instead of presence.
Forever loved.
Forever missed. 🕯🤍✨

12/24/2025

Dad, I will always wish you were still here,
especially this Christmas. When the lights are glowing and families are gathering, that’s when your absence feels the heaviest. The season meant for togetherness carries a quiet ache without you by my side.

I miss your voice, your presence, and the way you made everything feel a little warmer just by being there. Christmas will never be the same, but I carry you with me in every memory, every tradition, and every silent prayer. I love you, Dad, today and always. 🎄🤍

12/24/2025

Merry Christmas to my dad up in Heaven.
I miss you more than words can ever say, especially during this season meant for love, family, and togetherness. The lights still shine, but my heart always looks for you in the quiet moments.

I hope you know how deeply you are loved and how often you are remembered. Christmas will never be the same without you, but your love lives on in my heart, today and always. 🎄

12/23/2025

There are moments when the missing feels louder than usual, and today is one of those moments. It’s a day meant for remembering dads — and the love that didn’t leave with them.

This candle is lit for the quiet spaces they left behind. For the footsteps we still expect to hear. For the voices we listen for without realizing it. Grief lives in those spaces, but so does love.

The holidays have a way of bringing everything closer. Lights sparkle, songs play, and yet the heart feels the absence more clearly. Grief has its own season — one where memories arrive unexpectedly and love feels both comforting and painful.

We move forward carrying our dads with us. Into moments they should still be part of. Into decisions we wish we could share with them. And still, their love finds a way to guide us.

Tonight, we honor them.
We remember them.
We hold them close in prayer.

Dad, you are missed beyond words. 🕯🤍🙏

12/23/2025

No matter how far life takes me, my father is always with me. 🏠
Not in the way I once knew, but in every choice I make and every step I take forward. His voice lives quietly in my mind, reminding me to slow down, to be honest, and to stay true to who I am. When life feels overwhelming, I hear his lessons before I hear my fears.

He taught me that strength doesn’t have to be loud, and kindness doesn’t have to be weak. Through his actions, I learned responsibility, humility, and the value of showing up—even when it’s hard. His sacrifices were never spoken, but they shaped my understanding of what real love looks like.

A father’s love doesn’t fade with time or distance. It evolves. It becomes wisdom when decisions feel heavy. It becomes comfort when the world feels uncertain. It becomes courage when I doubt myself.

Everything I am working toward is deeply connected to what he gave me—his patience, his discipline, and his unwavering belief. I carry his legacy forward, not perfectly, but sincerely. 💙

12/23/2025

🎄 Christmas makes remembrance feel closer, heavier, more real…
Today, the missing feels louder than usual.
So I light a candle —
for the fathers who shaped us
and the silence that followed when they left.

For the advice we still replay in our minds.
For the questions we wish we could ask again.
For the comfort that once came so easily.

Christmas may sparkle with lights and songs,
but grief has its own season —
one filled with uninvited memories
and love that aches as much as it heals.

We move through holidays carrying our Dads with us.
Through moments they should still be part of.
Through days that feel incomplete without them.

Still, their love reaches us.
In our character.
In our choices.
In the quiet strength we didn’t know we had.

Tonight, this candle burns
for every Dad held in memory,
every heart that still longs,
every child who still feels that loss.

Christmas reminds us —
they may be gone from sight,
but never from the heart. 🤍🎄🕯️

12/22/2025

The holidays arrived again, and with them came the reminder of what’s missing 💔🌟

Dad, I try to make Christmas magical for my kids. I laugh with them, celebrate with them, and give them the joy they deserve. But inside, there’s a part of me that aches for you. I wish you were here to see them grow, to hold their hands, to remind them—like you reminded me—that everything will be okay.

I tell myself you’re watching from Heaven. That you see our small moments and know how deeply you’re missed. Still, the ache lingers. It shows up in quiet rooms, in soft carols, in the spaces where your presence used to be.

All I want for Christmas isn’t wrapped under the tree. It’s a feeling of wholeness that left when you did. Since I can’t have that, I carry your memory instead. Through every prayer, every silent wish, every Christmas that feels different now.

You may be gone, Dad, but you are never forgotten. Your love remains with us, guiding us through seasons that feel colder without you.