It was Father's Day and his little girl was gone. His sweet little Letha. Taken too soon.
She had been able to brighten up even the darkest room with just the glow in her green eyes. The sheen of her golden hair had been like the glory of the sun. All of that was gone now. It had been taken with the sound of her precious laughter.
"I miss you, Letha," he said.
Norman knelt. He lay a bouquet of tiny blue flowers upon his daughter's grave. As he stood, he stared down at Letha's grave. She was all he could think of... these days. Why was his daughter gone?
Then, from the distance, he caught sight of Roman walking among the graves in the cemetery, carrying a small bundle in his arms. It was Roman's daughter. Cassandra Marie had her mother's eyes.
"Are you my father?" Roman asked as he stood over Letha's grave.
"I am," Norman said as he reached out for his granddaughter.
He hugged the baby close as he inhaled her sweet-baby scent. Letha was gone, but he had a son. He also had a precious granddaughter.
When Letha died he told the doctor he didn't give a damn about the baby. He begged, 'Just save my little girl.'
"I was wrong about that," Norman spoke when he looked into the baby's eyes. "You are a part of her. And I do love you."
Norman hugged the baby, warm tears falling upon her cheek. "Happy Father's Day," Roman said quietly. He too had left a cluster of flowers upon Letha's grave.
"It's not the same without her," said Norman. "But I am glad I have you."