Becky Curran

Happy Father’s Day to my number one fan.

The past few years haven’t been easy, but I see everything you carry and the strength it takes for you to keep showing up for me every single day. That kind of love is something I will never take for granted. Thank you for always having my back, for holding me up when life feels heavy, and for loving me in a way that makes me feel safe no matter what.

Your goodnight texts are a reminder that no matter what the day brings, I am never alone. That kind of unconditional love has shaped who I am.

We’ve been through so much together, and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. “A father’s love turns into a daughter’s inner voice,” and yours is the one that continues to guide me every single day.

Thank you for being my Dad and for walking through all of this with me. I love you, Dad!

Almost four years after Jackson died, I found my way to an Infant and Toddler Loss Support Group through Empty Arms Bereavement Support. I came in still carrying questions, grief, and a longing for understanding that time had not eased.

Sitting with parents whose children were close in age to Jackson, I felt something shift. There was no need to explain the depth of the ache or the way time folds around loss. They already understood. It’s the worst club with the best people, and in that understanding, I found relief and the comfort of being fully known.

Thank you to Patricia for leading me to this community, and to Jen for welcoming me with open arms when I needed it most.

“Change is the only constant in life. Ones ability to adapt to those changes will determine your success in life.”

“If you can't figure out your purpose, figure out your passion. For your passion will lead you right into your purpose.”

It was a beautiful day walking two miles along the Charles River with the Boston Children’s Hospital Remembrance Team and three of my favorite people. This Eversource Energy walk is more than just miles, it is a powerful coming together of families, friends, and a community that shows up for children and for each other. Every step supports the care, research, and programs that hold families through their hardest moments, including the Bereavement Program that continues to honor and support parents like me.

As I walked, I carried a love that never fades and an ache that never leaves. I felt Jackson beside me, strong and steady, forever shaping who I am. I move for him. I breathe for him. I live for him. His love is what carries me forward.

If you feel moved, please join me in supporting this incredible community and honoring these babies who are deeply loved and never forgotten: https://secure.childrenshospital.org/site/TR/Walk/Walk?pg=personal&px=1459748&fr_id=2690&cap_id=3110829.

The World’s Largest Soccer Ball now stands in my new neighborhood of East Boston, a 47.9-foot part of the Guinness World Records World Records celebrating Boston’s role in the FIFA World Cup. For me, it brings back something more personal.

Soccer holds a special place in my heart. It shaped my childhood from kindergarten through twelfth grade, filled with fields, friendships, and the joy of being part of a team. I can still smell the freshly cut grass, feel the damp earth under my cleats, and taste the orange slices we shared at halftime. My shorter legs meant I could not match my teammates’ speed, but I made up for it with fierce determination and heart. Midfield was where I belonged, a thread connecting every pass, every play, every player.

I never scored a goal, but that was never the point. I felt included. Those moments stayed with me, reminding me that the greatest wins are not on the scoreboard, but in the belonging we carry forward and the way teamwork shapes who we become. Today, that lesson guides how I choose to show up for others in every space I enter.

Today was an hour that will stay with me.

I sat in a circle at the South Shore YMCA Early Childhood Center, reading a book about my friend Louie to a group of young children. Their openness, their curiosity, it grounded me. For a moment, everything slowed, and I felt a calm and connection I didn’t know I needed.

And still, there was an ache.

I couldn’t stop picturing Jackson in that circle, leaning in, smiling, fully part of it. I wanted that so deeply.

And then, in the simplest, most unexpected way, I was held. One little girl came up to me and asked for a hug, as if she sensed I needed it. In that moment, something shifted inside me.

Because even in the longing, I felt him there, in the message, in the love in the room, in the reason I keep showing up.

These moments matter.

And each time I show up, I am helping create spaces where children can see one another, understand one another, and grow into a world where belonging comes more naturally for all of them.

“If you have achieved any level of success, then pour it into someone else. Success is not success without a successor.”