Today, just like every day Connor reached up toward our wall of frames and pointed to the picture of my husband as a little boy on the beach with his father. We pick him up so he can see it and say “There’s Daddy when he was your age with Grandpa.” We both always linger a moment longer on that picture not sure of what more to say. We can’t tell him the next time he’s going to see his Grandpa or remind him of something silly his Grandpa likes to say to him. We can’t call him up and let him hear his voice. Connor has never heard his Grandfather’s voice. I have never heard my father in laws voice. We will never hear his voice. He passed away in 2003 when my husband was in his mid-twenties.
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