The sound of dry leaves crunched under Jordan’s feet as he pushed the stroller through the cemetery. It was the first anniversary of the passing of his wife Kyra, the mother of his triplets, whom he was now raising all by himself.
Each step towards Kyra’s resting place felt heavier than the other. With tears in his eyes, Jordan whispered, “We’re going to see mama.”
His triplets were babies when their mom died, and Jordan was heartbroken by the thought that they won’t remember her, her love, her devotion, and her warmth.
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