A Song for Daddy: Remembering the Music of Love
Holding on to the melodies of the past, while learning to sing in the present
My birthday is just a few days away, and as I sit here, listening to the songs from his phone, memories start to flood in. I remember him singing for me on my 27th birthday. That was the last time. The last time his voice filled the room, the last time he sang just for me. And our last dance? That was on my wedding day. His arms around me, his warmth, his steady steps guiding me as we swayed to the music. I never thought it would be the last.
If only I could turn back time.
I miss Daddy. I miss him so much.
If only I could tell him once more how much I love him, how much I appreciate everything he has done for me. I would do it in a heartbeat. But time doesn’t wait, and life moves forward, even when the heart aches to go back. It has been more than a year since he passed away, but it still feels like yesterday. Some wounds don’t heal with time; they just become a part of us.
People say grief comes in waves. Some days are easier. Some days, like today, it hits like a storm — sudden and overwhelming. I never knew how much I would long to hear his voice again, to see his smile, to feel his presence. But even though he is gone, his love is still here. It lingers in the songs he used to sing, in the lessons he taught me, in the memories we shared. I close my eyes, and I can still hear him — his laughter, his music, his words of wisdom.
And through this grief, I have learned something valuable.
Lessons Learned from Love and Loss
I have learned to say “I love you” more often — not just in passing, but truly, deeply, and meaningfully. I assumed Daddy already knew how much I loved him, but now I understand that words matter. We should never hesitate to remind people of their importance in our lives.
I have learned to create memories that last. In the rush of everyday life, it’s easy to overlook the small moments. But those are the moments that matter — the ones we will hold onto when everything else fades. A simple conversation, a song, a shared laugh — these become treasures.
I have learned to cherish the present. Time is never guaranteed, and life can change in an instant. We often get caught up in what’s next, in the worries of tomorrow. But Daddy’s passing taught me that what truly matters is now — the people in front of us, the moments we share today.
I have learned that grief is love that has nowhere to go. Missing someone doesn’t mean being stuck in the past. It means that the love we shared was deep and real. That love doesn’t disappear — it just transforms, shaping who we are moving forward.
And I have learned to find ways to keep him close. Just because he is gone doesn’t mean he has left me. He is in the music, in the traditions, in the stories I pass on. His presence remains in the way I love, in the lessons I carry, in the way I live my life.
Carrying These Lessons Forward
Now, as a mother myself, I realize that I still have the chance to do the things I wasn’t able to do with Daddy — with Mama, while she is still here. I want to say “I love you” to her more, not just assume she knows. I want to create memories, to sit with her, to listen to her stories, to make her feel how much she means to me.
I don’t want to wait for regret to teach me another lesson.
So today, I choose to cherish her presence. To be more patient, to hold her hand, to laugh with her. I choose to make the most of the time we have left, to ensure that she feels my love every single day. And as I raise my child, I want to pass these lessons on — to be present, to say the words that matter, to show love in the small, everyday ways that make all the difference.
So today, even though Daddy cannot hear me, I want to say it anyway.
Daddy, I miss you. I miss you every single day.
I wish I had said it more often when you were still here, but I hope somehow, somewhere, you still know. I hope you know that every song you sang, every dance, every moment — we still carry them with us. We always will.
And on my birthday, when the music plays, I will close my eyes and remember.
Because love never really leaves. It just finds a different way to stay.
