🌅 I felt you here, Papa. In the quiet gold of Montegesoye, where the sky softened and the earth stood still. I didn’t hear your voice, but I knew what you were saying: 'Keep going. I’m right here.' The pain still visits, but it no longer owns me. You live in my breath, in my strength, in every step I take toward healing. You are the light behind the hills, the warmth in the wind, the energy that fuels me. I carry you—not as a weight, but as a flame.
📍Montegesoye, France 🕊️ June 7th, 2022 — the day you left, but never truly left me.
Thank you so much—that means a lot to me. 🔥 Carrying him as a flame keeps the warmth close and the path lit. It's how I stay connected, even in the quiet moments.
Your words are so beautiful and moving. 🌅💛 I can feel the depth of your love and the presence of your Papa in every line. What a powerful way to honor him, turning grief into a flame that guides and strengthens you. It’s so inspiring to see how you carry his memory with grace, letting it fuel your healing rather than weigh you down. May the golden light of Montegesoye always remind you of his love, his strength, and the quiet whispers that stay with you forever. 🕊️✨
Thank you so much for your beautiful words 💛 They truly touched me. I’m grateful you felt his presence too—Montegesoye holds that light for both of us now 🕊️✨
That’s beautifully said, brother. 🌅 Yes… borrowed, but never forgotten. What we carry from them—the love, the lessons, the energy—it’s eternal. Even in the sadness, there’s a quiet grace. Thank you for sharing that light 🕯️🕎