Almost a year apart. Daddy helps her down. Now she can get up by herself. His smile at the end of this is one of my favorite recorded smiles. Sometimes it brings me joy. Right now it brings sobs. The person who was so in love with life was killed weeks after that smile. I think I am often mourning the loss of his dreams more than my own. As Zoya grows into the girl he wanted, it gets harder and harder not to be able to celebrate with him.
I believe he did witness her feat today when she climbed on the bed by herself. I believe he was cheering her with me. I believe he is part of the great cloud of witnesses.
She has started to be able to express a lot more about her daddy. I’m starting to tell her the truth as best as I know it and tell her what I don’t know as well.
She is scary smart and remembers everything I tell her and likes to repeat the story back. I’m trying not to tell her anything I don’t know to be true, but I accidentally told her the escaped balloon was going up to daddy and she is obsessed with talking about it a week later. She kept her balloon. The other balloon went to daddy. So much for toddlers being forgiving because they forget.
I have to be more careful. I have to tell her what I know to be truth. Daddy’s spirit is alive with God. Daddy will rise again with a new body at the end when we are all resurrected.
I don’t know why. I don’t know where. But I know who he is with and that he is well.
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