Serendipity

As you get older, you start to understand the quiet ache that some parents carry—the pain of watching the people you love grow up.

At first, it’s in the small things. When the kids move out. When they find a partner. When they buy their first pots and pans. Then, it starts to pick up speed. They sit with you, and for the first time, you’re not just talking at them—you’re having real conversations. They check in just to let you know they’re okay. And then they say something—just a few words—but you know, in that moment, that life has touched them. That they’ve felt its weight.

These are the moments when loving them is both the easiest and the hardest thing in the world. You love them because they are them. Plain and simple. Unconditionally. You would give anything to see them smile, to protect them from the things you know will hurt them. And yet, the ache comes from pride—because they’ve grown into people who love you back, who choose to keep you in their life, not out of obligation, but because they want to.

I can’t speak for others. I can only speak from the life I’ve been given. For over 11 years, I’ve watched the girls who gave me a life worth being proud of grow up. I’ve seen them cry, laugh, fall in love, and have their hearts broken. We’ve fought, made up, and through it all, loved each other without question. That’s what unconditional love is—being there, no matter what.

The chance to love someone and to learn from them in ways you never expected—that’s something I will always be grateful for. I know I write about them a lot, but I think I’m allowed to. This space is where I come to speak my thoughts, to share my life with all of you.

Watching them grow has been an honor and a privilege. I wouldn’t change a thing.

I love you girls with all of my heart and soul. To the moon and back.