Driving home tonight, the boys asked me if Papaw could see them from the sky.

Not a moment goes by that I don’t think about my dad, and the boys like to talk about him. Often. Griffin told me how “nice Papaw was” and Hayden said he loved to “hug his neck.” I began to tear up, and my voice cracked as I recalled my own favorite moments with their Papaw Mike.

7-year-old Griffin asked me if I was crying.

“A little, but I’m ok,” I told him.

He reached out his arm from the backseat of the car and said, “Here, Mom, I’ll hold your hand.”

And he did, all the way home.

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