Baby girl,
you know I will never tell you not to cry.
I will simply dry your tears, and hold your hand as you feel your way through the dark.
I know nothing I can do will take your pain away, but darling, I’m here.
Whenever, wherever you need me.
I don’t have all the answers.
I can’t tell you how, or why you have to go through this, but I can walk with you.
I have been where you are.
Somedays, I am right there with you.

I know grief.
I know it like a stray dog that keeps coming back; that is both a nuisance and a comfort.
I know it like I know my own body; which is to say, we have a love/hate relationship.

Grief will try its best to suffocate you,
to pry the air out of your lungs and drown you in its relentless waves.
Resist.
The truth is that it doesn’t get any easier.
You just get stronger.

But sorrow is not my song,
for hope sings louder.

It is the anthem of my soul,
the voice at the end of the day that says,
“Even if tomorrow is worse, I will keep living.
If the stars and moon fail, I will make my own light.”

I don’t know how I got it, but these bones are filled with hope.
That hope, is what led me straight to you.
Every time I look in your eyes, I am reminded of why I am alive.
To share this crazy story God has given me, that others may know they are not alone.

If the only good thing I ever do is know you, I say it’s more than enough.
Your story matters, Becky.
You matter,
And it’s an honor to be a part of this narrative.

You are worth so much more than you will ever comprehend.

You are so much more than a girl with a dead father.
You must never let grief define you.
You must never let another person define you.
You define you.
You alone get to choose who you will become, and
how you will let the events of your life shape you.

You get to write your own story.
So, let it be raw, and authentic, and passionate.
Let it be full of love, and loss; for it’s the price we must pay to feel, and know, and be.
Let it be full of poems, and hugs, and hope,
and, if you don’t mind,
Let me be a part of it,
Always.