My husband, Tyson, passed away in 2015. And I was watching my (adopted) kids playing this morning, and I swear I heard his voice, telling me I'm a good dad, beside me. I instinctively gasped and turned my head, but I knew it wasn't him, it was just another memory trying to hold on. I guess I just miss him. We had a beautiful journey together, and I just commented about it on another post. I want to move on, I still have this inkling of knowledge that he wants me to be happy, whatever the cost, but I want the kids to not refer to their dads as "Fitz and (the new guy)", I'd rather it be me and the memory of the gentle, big black hunk of love I met in prison almost ten years ago.