I’m not a reader, but you’re the story I chose to keep. Your eyes—luminous—offered a kind of peace, a healing deep. I still have the flowers you gave me that day— Do you remember the soft apologies when your replies came late? I know someday, we'll have to part, But still, I’ll carry your name etched in my heart. When I lie on my deathbed, searching the skies for something true, It’s your voice I’ll hear, whispering the secrets I always knew. You must be not just the best dad,but the best mom too, Raise them to be kind, and strong, and good—just like you. And if you cry, holding my photo where our story began, Know that my promise of forever was real—it just slipped through my hands.