Dear Me,
Another birthday.
Another year around the sun without him.
And this year it comes the day after Father’s Day—a double ache, and a double honor.
You’re carrying so much.
Memories. Milestones. Grief. Gratitude.
But you’re also carrying love—from more than one chapter of your life.
And that’s something worth pausing for.
You’ve made it through another year—through heartbreak and healing, through quiet days and loud joy.
That alone is worth celebrating.
Dear Love,
Every birthday for 11 years you made sure I felt special.
I’ll never forget the time you left the house overnight so I could have my 30th birthday party at home. You let me turn the house into a celebration and supported me with a smile.
You taught me how to drive a manual transmission so that I could get my dream car—because if it made me happy, you made it happen.
You went above and beyond every single time. Not just for my birthday, but in every moment of our life together.
You always put me first.
And I will forever be grateful for having known a love like yours—patient, thoughtful, unwavering.
Dear Me, Again—
This birthday, there’s something new to hold space for.
You’ve been blessed with love—again.
Another beautiful, steady, selfless kind of love.
Your children are growing up with a second father figure who shows up with patience, protection, and presence.
Someone who didn’t have to step in—but chose to.
And does it all with grace.
So today, on your birthday and so close to Father’s Day, you get to celebrate both men:
The one who made you a wife and mother…
And the one helping you carry the load now.
Dear Him,
To the man standing beside us now…thank you.
Thank you for loving these kids like your own.
Thank you for showing up with strength, consistency, and softness.
Thank you for reminding me that I didn’t lose love forever.
It takes a special kind of man to love children who aren’t biologically his—and you do it effortlessly.
You told me you’re the luckiest man in the world, but baby…
I’m one of the lucky ones.
I struck gold twice…
Once when I married Tony.
And again when I found you.
To Anyone Grieving Around Milestones
If this week feels heavy…
If Father’s Day and birthdays are tangled with grief…
You’re not alone.
It’s okay to hold sadness and celebration at the same time.
It’s okay to miss someone while loving someone else.
It’s okay to feel broken and blessed in the same breath.
Because healing isn’t about choosing between the past and the present.
It’s about honoring both.
If this letter touched something in you, I’d love to walk alongside you. Subscribe to my newsletter for weekly stories, reflections, and reminders that healing is possible.
La 💙
