A letter from July 20th, 2025

Dear FutureMe, Dear Heaven,Today might be the day you wondered about, the day you feared, the day you dreamed about, or simply another day you choose to remember him.You remember, don’t you? The night he said:“You think you’d be around then?”“Lol, I’ll remind you when you leave.”“Time will tell.”And you, with soft defiance, whispered back:I’m not going anywhere.”You meant it. With every quiet heartbeat, with every laughter you tucked into your journal, with every prayer you whispered over him when he was tired, every time you scrambled to help him with the project to buy him some sleep—you meant it. You wanted to stay. You wanted to be around.And maybe you still are.Maybe today he is still here, in your life, in your prayers, in your daily laughter, in the way he teases you, in the way he says “babe” softly, in the way he tries to hide that soft side of him that shows when he says, “I trust you.”Maybe he’s still the Mr Grumpy you pray sleeps well, the Stormie who said “Time will tell,” the Stormie who, in saying “birthdays” instead of “birthday,” revealed a hope, a flicker of a future he doesn’t even fully let himself admit.Or maybe today, he is gone.Maybe your fear came true, and you are here, breathing through it.......