You’re sitting on a warm bench in the park. You turn at the high-pitched, sweet laughter and giggles of young children. You see them jumping and spinning in a cloud of bubbles. They are amazed at the clear spheres that comes from the “magic stick” that their father (you assume) is blowing.

These past couple of week have been most rough for you. Maybe the most rough you can recall ever experiencing. It’s been two weeks since you have last seen them. Two weeks you have been without waking up to the smiles of two little ones jumping on your bed and screaming, “Daddy, wake up!” Two weeks since you have kissed the foreheads of two little angels that you are lucky enough to call your own.

You suddenly hate the father for taking these two children here. You hate him for being able to laugh with his children. You wonder why that can’t still be you blowing bubbles as your children jump and spin as they sheik in laughter with each bubble that pops. You wonder why they chose to live with their mama instead of you. You are broken inside and you try to resolve your mental distress with what you could or should of done when they were still yours. When you still had them.

Maybe if you would have bought them those Christmas presents they wanted even if they were a little more than you had to spend. Maybe if you would have bought them the happy meals and the cookies instead of ramen noodles every night. It would have been worth it if you could still have them in your arms.

You take out your phone and examine a picture. You and your two beautiful angels. Tears well up in your eyes but you can’t cry. You’re the dad.You have to stay strong. For them.For your beautiful babies. You think about calling them and part of you says no but your heart screams yes!
You dial the number and press the call button. It rings four times and your heart sinks a little with each ring. After what seems like an eternity, you finally hear the voices of your two little angels say, “Hi, daddy! We miss you!