The morning of her 23rd birthday was supposed to be a quiet one.
Emma, now a college senior in Denver, lit a small candle next to her dad’s photo like she always did each year. He’d passed away five years ago in a car accident — just two weeks before her high school graduation. Since then, birthdays had felt hollow.
Until her phone buzzed.
A text from “Dad.”
“Happy birthday, sunshine. I hope today you smile at least once for me.”
She froze.
Tears welled up before she could even breathe. She checked the contact — it was his number. The same one she’d never deleted.
But how?
She called her mom in a panic. Her mom was silent for a moment, then said:
“Sweetheart… there’s something I never told you.”
Turns out, a few months before his death, Emma’s dad had been diagnosed with a rare heart condition. Knowing he might not be around much longer, he spent nights recording voice notes and scheduling dozens of messages to be delivered on each of her birthdays.
With the help of a tech-savvy friend, he set up a delayed SMS service — emails to texts, timed precisely.
“I didn’t want your birthdays to pass without hearing from me,” his next message said.
“You’re stronger than you think, Em. And no matter how old you get — I’ll always be your Dad.”
Over the next few years, the messages kept coming. Some were funny, some were wise, some were just reminders to keep going. But one thing never changed: they all ended with the same five words:
“I’m still with you. Always.”
Twist at the end:
On her 30th birthday, she got her final scheduled message. But this one came with a link.
It led her to a private video of him — recorded in a hospital room, smiling weakly into the camera:
“If you’re seeing this… it means I didn’t make it this far. But you did. And that’s all that matters. Don’t let my absence define your future. Let my love carry you into it.”