Always My Little Girl

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It’s hard to believe that almost two and a half years have passed since my world changed. The ache of missing her is a constant companion—sometimes sharp, sometimes dull, but always there. I miss the warmth of her hugs, the sound of her laughter echoing through the house, and the simple comfort of her presence. But it’s her, my little girl, whose absence I feel most deeply. No matter how much she grows, in my heart she will always be my baby. I remember holding her as a baby, her tiny fingers curling around mine, her soft breath against my cheek. There was a sweetness to those moments that I carry with me still—the way she would nuzzle into my shoulder, the gentle weight of her in my arms, the scent of her hair. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can almost feel her there again, safe and small and loved beyond measure. Now, I see pictures of her and I’m grateful to know she looks happy and complete. But the longing to be part of her life, to share in her joys and comfort her in her sorrows, never fades. I dream of the day she’ll let me in again, when I can hold her and her little one, and remind her that no matter how much time passes, she will always be my little girl. Until then, I hold onto the memories, and the hope that love will bring us back together.


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