NEW ZEALAND

My dear Gabriel,

I never got to hold you, never saw your face, never heard your voice, but I feel you in ways I can’t fully explain. I carry the weight of your absence in my chest, the quiet ache that follows me through every day.

I know I cannot change the past, and there are moments I wish I could have done more, said more, protected you more. Even so, I want you to know this — you are my son. You are not forgotten. You are not just a memory tucked away in shadow.

Sometimes I imagine you running through fields, laughing, curious about the world, your little hands reaching for me. Those dreams bring both joy and pain, a reminder of the love I will always have for you, even if it is unseen by anyone else.

I am sorry I could not give you the life I had hoped for. I am sorry for the silence that has hidden your name. But I will speak your name now and always — Gabriel, my son, my heart.

May you rest in peace, and know that though I failed to hold you in this life, my love for you will never die. I will remember you, I will honor you, I will love you forever.