The house is full of things, yet empty without you. I can’t carry you in my arms anymore, but I carry you in my skin, in my breath, in every step I take. Mom & Dad, you were my everything—and you always will be
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Mom & Dad,
You weren’t just my parents—you were my whole world. You were the air I breathed, the warmth in every hug, the steady rhythm that carried me through life. Every step I took was anchored by the quiet strength you gave me, a strength so constant I thought it would never fade.
I never said it enough. I never thought time would slip away so quickly, or that the last time I saw your faces, touched your hands, or heard your voices would be the last. If I had one more moment, I would fall to my knees, press my forehead against yours, and whisper through tears, “Please don’t go. Not yet. Not ever.”
But life doesn’t grant rewinds. Now I sit in the silence, and it is deafening. The house is still full of your things, yet it feels hollow, stripped of its heartbeat. The chairs are empty, the rooms echo, and even the light through the windows feels different without you here to share it.
Grief has become my shadow, but so has love. Though I can no longer hold you in my arms, I carry you in my skin, in my breath, in the deepest part of who I am. You live in every memory, in every lesson you taught me, in every ounce of love that still burns in my chest.
I am broken and yet still whole, because you made me who I am. Even in your absence, you are present. Even in silence, your voices guide me.
I miss you beyond words, but I promise—your love will never die in me.
Would you like me to shape this into more of a poetic letter style, or a narrative memory style (like storytelling about their presence in your life)?
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