My father stopped inviting people over. He stopped going out. He spent evenings sitting in the same chair, staring at old photographs.
I tried to encourage him to move forward.
One evening, years after Mom’s funeral, I finally told him something I had been carrying inside for a long time.
“Mom wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone.”
He looked at me for several seconds.
“I already have you.”
It was a beautiful answer.
But it also broke my heart.
Because I knew that wasn’t enough.
Then one Saturday afternoon, I walked into his kitchen and saw him smiling at his phone.
It was a smile I hadn’t seen in years.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
He immediately turned the screen away.
“Nothing.”
I laughed.
“You’re terrible at hiding things.”
Eventually, he admitted the truth.
He had joined a dating app.
I hugged him.
“I think Mom would be happy you’re trying.”
He smiled.
“I hope you’re right.”
