What would you say if I could have you back for just one day?
Just one.
I’d do anything to see that smile again. To hear your voice say my name. To hear you laugh. To hear you tell me you’re heading out to go feed.
A very experienced—and very expensive—counselor once told me I should talk to you. I remember sitting there thinking, what a stupid idea. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk with you. I want to hear you answer.
But I tried.
All that came out was, “I miss you, Dad.”
Then it turned into anger.
Then cursing you for leaving.
Then silence.
Then tears that wouldn’t stop.
Dad, you visit me in my dreams a lot. Sometimes they feel like nightmares. Sometimes they feel like you’re just stopping by, checking in, making sure we’re still standing.
So I’ll give you the update you would have gotten today.
Because today, my morning would’ve started with a phone call to tell you Happy Birthday.
Miles.
Dad, you would be so proud of him.
He’s carrying a weight most people will never understand. He was handed responsibilities he never asked for, but he shows up every single day and does what needs to be done. Quietly. Humbly. With dignity.
He’s picking up broken pieces that none of us know how to put back together.
And somehow… he’s doing it.
Vivianne isn’t a little kid anymore. She’s turning into a young woman. But she still has that same light in her. That same energy that makes people feel loved just by being around her.
And she still runs full speed into hugs.
Ryggs… that kid has a mind of his own. You can almost see the gears turning in his little brain. One minute he’s thinking, the next minute he’s off making something happen.
He’s a doer. A leader.
I’m convinced he’ll be driving tractors and running the place by the time he’s eight.
Rahlee is the one you’d want to scoop up and snuggle. His laugh spreads through the room, and you can’t help but laugh too. He watches his big brother carefully. He’ll be following big brother around before we know it!
Becky has been Miles’ true partner through all of this.
She stepped into spaces that weren’t hers to fill—but she filled them anyway. She keeps things moving when the rest of us feel stuck. She makes the phone calls, fills in the gaps, handles paperwork, communicates when Miles is too busy, and helps feed the ranch cattle.
Some days, she’s the glue holding this whole family together.
Marlow is exactly what you would expect from a toddler.
Wild.
She still occasionally gets dismissed from daycare for her behavior—honestly, sometimes she’s earned it. She runs hard, plays hard, and loves even harder.
Kody has been the steady piece holding our little world together while my head has been somewhere else entirely. There have been days when my mind feels like it’s in another universe, stuck somewhere between memories and grief, and he’s the one quietly keeping things moving. He carries more than I think anyone realizes—picking up the slack, holding space for my sadness, and still loving me through it.
Mom
She’s trying to carry both her role and yours. And that’s not something anyone can just step into. You two were always the best team when it came to making sure Miles and I were taken care of.
Now she’s doing it alone.
I can see the exhaustion in her sometimes. I think sometimes she’s angry at you for leaving her as the only grandparent.
But she loves all the little ones fiercely. And she’s doing the best she can with what she has left to give.
Tein.
(Or T-man, as he’ll probably grow up hearing.)
He was the blessing I didn’t know I needed in 2025.
When he smiles, it reaches his eyes. Exactly the way yours did, and my heart feels like it might explode inside my chest.
And the only thing that comes out are quiet tears.
You’d probably be disappointed in me.
I cry now.
A lot.
I never used to cry. But these days I feel like if someone holds me too long, I might fall apart in their arms.
Sometimes I think if I cried hard enough… maybe I could cry you back to life.
I can hear you telling me that loss is something you can’t control. That I need to keep living my life.
And I am living.
But living doesn’t mean the ache goes away.
Some days I’m strong.
Some days I feel like I’m breaking open.
Some days I just want to hear your voice again.
Today is your birthday.
Your first one in heaven.
And the world kept moving like it was just another day.
But for me, it isn’t.
Today I would’ve called you.
Today we would’ve laughed.
Today I would’ve heard your voice.
Instead, I’m writing into the silence.
So wherever you are—
I hope you know we’re still here.
Still loving you.
Still missing you.
Still trying to carry forward the things you built.
I hope wherever you are, you are with Tom and Uncle Tell.
I hope you know how much of you is still alive in all of us.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
I love you.
And I will miss you for the rest of my life ❤️
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