I’m Kelly, 30. Two years ago, my life was turned upside down. My husband, Jeremy, died in a car accident while I was eight months pregnant with our daughter, Sophia. I was painting her nursery when the phone call came, shattering my world.
“Miss Kelly?” a voice on the other end of the line said. “This is Officer Reynolds… Your husband…”
“No,” I whispered, my hand instinctively going to my swollen belly. I could barely process it.
They told me the crash was bad—so bad I shouldn’t see his body. The funeral was a blur, just a closed casket, and that was it.
“Stay strong for the baby,” my mom told me at the funeral, but how was I supposed to do that without him? Jeremy was supposed to be here.
Two years later, I was trying to keep it together for Sophia. The ache of losing him never left.
Then, two days ago, something happened that made me question everything. It was a quiet afternoon, and Sophia was napping in her room. I was curled up on the couch with a book when I heard it—a soft sound, like a window shutting.
Then, a voice.
“I love you forever.”
I froze. My heart pounded in my chest.
“Jeremy?” I whispered, but there was no answer. It was impossible. He was gone. But I heard it again.
“I love you forever.”
The voice was coming from Sophia’s room.
I rushed down the hallway, fear twisting in my stomach. When I opened her door, she was asleep in her crib, clutching a teddy bear. The room was still. But then, I heard it again.
“I love you forever.”
My heart stopped. I rushed to the window. It was locked. Outside, a small tree branch rested against the glass, broken.
But Jeremy’s voice?
I glanced at Sophia. She stirred in her sleep. “Dada,” she murmured.
I looked down at the bear she was holding, and suddenly, it hit me. The bear was speaking.
With trembling hands, I pressed it.
“I love you forever.”
Tears welled up. This wasn’t just a coincidence. This was Jeremy’s voice.
I sat down, clutching the bear. Where had it come from? I called my mother-in-law, Gloria.
“Did you know this bear plays Jeremy’s voice?”
There was a pause on the line. “Did it finally play?”
“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” I asked, heart racing.
She sighed. “I had it sewn into the bear before her birthday. I wanted Sophia to have a piece of him.”
My mind was spinning. Gloria explained how she took a recording from our wedding video—Jeremy’s vows—and had it sewn into the bear so that Sophia could have a reminder of her father.
I didn’t know what to feel. I was touched, but also blindsided. I never knew she had done this.
“You should have told me,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
That night, I sat in Sophia’s room, holding the bear in my lap, watching my daughter sleep.
“I love you forever,” Jeremy’s voice echoed again.
Sophia stirred. “Mama?”
“Hey, baby,” I whispered, brushing her cheek. “Do you want your bear?”
She nodded and took it, holding it to her chest. “Dada?”
I smiled through my tears. “Yes, sweetheart. That’s Dada.”
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel so alone.
The grief was still there. But in my daughter’s arms, there was a piece of him. I kissed her forehead, whispering, “You’ll always have him with you, my sweet girl. Always.”
