A Love Letter to My Children|The Love That Lives on

This is where it all leads … to the love that carries forward.

I started this series to hold on to the love that shaped me, to put into words the things that still live in my heart. A love letter to Fuad, because he changed my life forever. A love letter to myself, because healing is its own kind of love. A love letter to my family and friends, because their support has held me up in ways I could never fully express.

And now, I’m closing this series with the love that will outlive us all … the love I have for my children.

You are my heart. My greatest love. My reason for every single thing I do.

Your father may not be here in the way we wish he were, but he is everywhere. He is in the way you laugh, the way you play, the way you hold your own. He is in the lessons he left behind, in the memories we keep alive, in the love that will never leave us.

I want you both to know that, no matter what, you are not alone.

I see him in both of you in different ways …

Papa, King Ashraf

You are so much like your father. The way you say exactly what’s on your mind, the way you just know how to be cool, effortless presence in a room…he had that same energy. He could walk into any space and just fit in, just like you.

He was your biggest fan. From the moment you could walk, he was putting a soccer ball at your feet, setting up drills, getting you personal training…anything to make sure you had what you needed to succeed. He would run around with you, race you, arm wrestle you. Always letting you win. Even though I wasn’t about to let you win…somebody has to keep you humble. But your daddy? He wanted you to feel like you could do anything, and in his eyes, you could.

He loved playing with you in the garage. Air hockey, flipping water bottles, all those little games that seemed small but meant everything. And I know you remember them. I know, because you still talk about him all the time. You say, “I got it from my daddy.” You remember how he told you to behave in school … even tough sometimes you forget, lol. You carry him with yo in the way you move, the way you carry yourself, the way you make friends so naturally.

But more than anything, I want you to always know that your father loved you beyond words. He would have climbed the tallest mountain for you. He would have done anything for you. And he did. And I need you to know this too … I am so proud of you.

You have handled everything with a strength beyond your years. From the very beginning when I had to sit you down and have those hard talks about Daddy. About how life was going to look different, you listed. You understood in a way that still amazes me. You let yourself feel, you let yourself ask questions, and you are never afraid to talk about him. You keep his memory alive in the way you still mention him. The way you say “Daddy used to do this” or “Daddy would have done that.” You never shied away from it.

And when I have my moments, when the grief gets heavy and you see me crying, you tell me, “It’s going to be okay.” You cuddle up with me, letting me know without words that we are in this together.

You remind me that I’m not alone.

But what really gets me, what truly takes my breath away is how you think about your sister.

There have been times when we’re just talking, and I say, ‘I hate that you had to experience this at such a young age. That you had to learn these life lessons so early.” And you always say, “Yeah, I know, but I hate it more for Asiyah.”

That moment will always stay with me. Because you don’t just feel your own grief, you recognize hers. Even though she’s still little, even though she doesn’t fully understand it yet, you know one day, she will.

And that, that is your father in you.

Because he wasn’t afraid of dying. That was never what scared him. What weighed on him, what was always on his mind, was leaving behind the people he loved, the people who depended on him. His mom. His sisters. His family. US.

And now, here you are, carrying that same heart.

You know that Asiyah won’t get the same memories we have. She won’t remember his voice, the way he laughed, the way he loved her … but she will have us. She will have videos of him playing with her, holding her, and loving her. She will have his name spoken in this house. She will know him because of you, because of me, because we will make sure of it.

Booskie, my baby girl

I look at you and see a strength that is so much bigger than your little body. Even though you didn’t get as much time with him, I know your father is with you. I know because every time you see his picture, you say, “Daddy.” Your little face lights up as you point to him. And sometimes, I wonder maybe you do see him. Maybe in ways I can’t understand, he is still reaching out for you, still making sure you know how much he loves you.

You are so sure of yourself. You know exactly what you wants, and you don’t let anything get in your way. You try food, and if you don’t like it, you spit it right out. You walk like you own the world. And that? That is your father. He wasn’t scared of anything. He walked with certainty, with conviction, with faith, and you do too.

I wish he could have seen you grow up. I wish you could have had more time. But one thing I can promise is that you will never have to question how much he loved you.

To Both of You

If there is on thing I want you to carry with you forever, it is this … your father loved you. You had the best dad in the world, and I need you to remember that.

And I pray, I pray to God that I raise you both right.

I am so thankful that your father and I had the same vision for you. We knew the kind of parents we wanted to be, what kind of people we wanted you to become. We wanted to guide you, protect you, and provide for you. That’s what we talked about. That’s what we promised each other. And I will do my best to carry that through … for both of us.