Last night, I watched Gus Walz express such genuine, unfiltered love for his father, Tim Walz, in a way that was both heartwarming and bittersweet. Regardless of the politics surrounding them, it was the pure, unguarded display of affection that really struck me—reminding me of my own son.

I’ve always known my son is a sweet, loving soul, but it was during the hardest moments that he truly found his voice. At his father’s memorial, he stood there, raw and vulnerable, but filled with love. He didn’t hold back, didn’t hide behind the stoic mask so many of us wear in times of grief. Instead, he let his heart speak. And then, when I came out of surgery last year, there he was again—my rock, my comfort. He showed up in ways I hadn’t imagined he would, with a maturity and tenderness that pulled at every corner of my heart.

There’s something deeply moving about seeing your child, who you’ve nurtured and protected, step up and become your protector, your source of strength. It’s like the love you’ve poured into them over the years comes rushing back in a wave, washing over you in your most vulnerable moments.

It was a rough year, one filled with challenges and heartache. But through it all, my son found his love voice—a voice that now speaks volumes with every hug, every reassuring word, every small act of kindness. It’s a voice that will echo in my heart forever, a testament to the unbreakable bond between us.

So, as I watched Gus Walz last night, I didn’t just see a young man honoring his father. I saw a reflection of my own son, a reminder that love, when given the space to grow, can weather any storm and shine brightest in the darkest times.