There are no new pictures of you to post today. No current stories to share through laughter. No man across the breakfast table to celebrate. No father present to dote on.

There is this ache in my heart today that is different. As if I am finally able to cry the tears I could not on that day almost five years ago. That moment I asked why no one was helping my husband and a stranger answered me with, “He didn’t make it honey.” The further time separates me from that statement it is as though it’s echo is on an infinite loop; and, instead of becoming more faint, it grows in volume and urgency.

My boys are still a ways from filling their fathers shoes. Yet not far from bringing him into new photos or making him a part of current stories told with laughter. Almost like that heartbreaking echo is paralleled in them. Just as loud and compelling.

“He is here Mom! Dad did make it because we are alive.”