“On my birthday, I want my girls to look as beautiful as possible,” Brian had said, his voice soft but full of hope.
“I’m really curious to see what they’re going to wear. Promise me you’ll visit your dad and show me your pretty dresses, girls? Even though Dad won’t be with you that day, you have to promise me you’ll look your best.”
Those were his final words — a simple wish for his daughters to honor him on his birthday.
Iris, 6, and Mariana, 8, missed their father, Brian, deeply.
After his passing, life felt different. The girls no longer sneaked cookies from the kitchen, nor played little pranks on their mother. Without Dad, even the smallest joys seemed muted.
“You’re spoiling those girls, Brian!” their mother Linda would say.
“Besides, you always defend them when I scold them for stealing cookies from the pantry!”
“I can’t help it, they’re adorable!” Brian would reply. “Sorry, honey. You know I adore you, right?”
Brian had always been a loving, caring father. But after his death, silence and grief filled the house. Linda struggled to accept his absence, and the girls were quieter than ever.
Brian had fallen ill rapidly, and despite the best efforts of the doctors, he passed away one early morning during sleep.
The night before, he had asked to see the girls at the hospital, wanting to spend his last moments with them privately.
“On my birthday, I want my girls to look as beautiful as possible,” he said softly. “Do you promise to visit me and show me your outfits? Dad might not be with you that day, but you must look your best.”
After his passing, Linda could barely recover from the loss. But the girls, in their innocence, remained determined to honor their father’s last wish.
The day before his birthday, Iris and Mariana begged their mother to take them shopping.
“Mommy,” little Iris said, “Dad loved my pink dress — the one he gave me that doesn’t fit anymore. I want one the same color.”
“Can you help me choose one, Mom?” Mariana added. “I want it to be Dad’s favorite color.”
Linda hesitated, consumed by grief. “I don’t think I have time, girls.”
“But we have to visit Dad!” Iris insisted. “And he asked us to wear something beautiful!”
Tears filled Linda’s eyes. She hadn’t remembered his birthday this year.
“Yes, Dad wanted to see us in pretty dresses on his birthday. We have to visit him, Mommy,” Mariana explained gently.
Finally, Linda agreed. “All right. Let’s go shopping, girls! Let’s find the nicest outfits for Dad’s birthday!”
The next day, on Brian’s birthday, the girls dressed in their new outfits and walked hand in hand to his grave, Linda close behind.
In front of the tombstone, they noticed two beautifully wrapped boxes with their names on them. A small tag indicated they were from Brian.
“Mommy!” Iris exclaimed. “Look! Dad sent us gifts! Isn’t it funny? It’s his birthday, shouldn’t we be giving him gifts?”
Linda smiled through her tears. “Surely it seemed like a great idea to him. Go ahead, girls, open the boxes.”
As the girls unwrapped the presents, Linda struggled to hide her tears. Iris beamed, while Mariana let her first tears since their father’s passing flow freely.
Inside each box were beautiful shoes and a letter from Brian.
“Shoes!” Iris shouted. “So pretty, Mommy! My favorite color… pink!”
Brian’s letter read:
Some angels up here in heaven are amazed by how beautiful you are! They say you are the most beautiful girls God has ever created. Daddy can see how lovely you look in your outfits and wanted you to wear these beautiful shoes as well. I hope you like them.
Keep being the same girls who used to raid the pantry for cookies, hiding from Mommy. The next time you visit me, I want to hear your fun stories.
Be happy and smile every day. When you think of me, trust that I am in a wonderful place, watching over you and taking care of you.
Thank you for visiting me and wishing me a happy birthday, girls. Daddy loves you with all his heart.
Mariana read the letter aloud, hugged her sister, and looked at their mother with gratitude. The three held hands, feeling Brian’s presence around them.
Linda whispered softly, “I love you very much,” thankful to her daughters for bringing comfort and courage to face life without Brian.
