🕊
To someone you love, after you're gone
This is the hardest page on this site. And the most important. Because the messages that matter most are the ones people never get to hear. Your voice, saying the thing you always meant to say. Delivered when they need it most.
Written February 2, 2026 · Delivers When the time comes
1 video · 2:305 photos
My babies (you'll always be my babies, even at 30),
I recorded a video. Please watch it before you read this. I wanted you to see my face when I tell you that everything is going to be okay. Because it is. I promise.
I'm sitting in the garden. The jasmine is blooming. Your mother planted it the year you were born, and I've never had the heart to trim it even though it's taking over everything. Let it take over. That's what love does.
I attached five photos. One from each of your birthdays that I love the most. Not the perfect ones — the messy ones. Cake on faces. Someone crying. Someone laughing so hard their eyes are shut. That's what life looks like when it's being lived.
I want you to know: I wasn't perfect. I worked too much. I said the wrong thing sometimes. But I loved you with every single thing I had. Every school run, every cricket match, every midnight fever — I was there because there's nowhere else I wanted to be.
Be kind to each other. Call your mother. And when the jasmine blooms, think of me.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
♡ Dad
age 58, diagnosed last month, writing from the garden