After my 27-year-old wife passed away unexpectedly, I’ve been raising our 4-year-old son alone, keeping her phone by my bedside for comfort. Last night, it chimed with a text: “Trix, I’ll be home in 20 mins.” Trix was her college nickname, and the message felt eerie, breaking me down emotionally. Staring at the screen, I noticed the timestamp—12:01 AM, May 28, 2025, today’s date. My heart raced; I hadn’t used her phone since her passing. Hesitantly, I replied, “I miss
you.” Minutes later, another chime: “I miss you too, love.” Tears streamed as I clutched the phone, feeling her presence. I showed my son her picture, saying, “Mommy’s watching over us.” He smiled, whispering, “I know, Daddy.” That night, I felt a warmth I hadn’t since she left, a connection bridging life and death. I’ll keep her phone close, hoping for more messages, knowing her love endures beyond the grave, guiding us through our grief.
