As I turn 89, I’m sitting alone in a retirement home with a plate of ravioli in front of me. I don’t know who made them, and I don’t know if anyone will remember my birthday.
I have three children. I haven’t seen them in a long time. They brought me here, saying it was for my own good, but as the days pass, the phone stays silent. No calls, no visits.
I’m not angry—just sad. Sad because, no matter how much time has gone by, I never stopped loving them. Sad because I don’t ask for much—just a hug, a kind word, a simple “Happy Birthday, Dad.”
I just wish someone would remember me…”
Check the comments for the full article👇 Let’s bring a little more love back into the world, one call, one visit, one memory at a time ❤”
