My life changed forever when my father died. I was 13-years-old and on the cusp of otter-hood.

My dad was a simple otter. He enjoyed singing in the local river, styling his fur, and using his paws to make stuff. He was a builder, and he fixed burrows and painted them for a living.

And on weekends, he'd go exploring with me. He taught me to climb, paddle, and hunt for fish. We even caught the occasional butterfly.

But through it all, he never said "I love you" out loud. I guess he preferred to show it.

For a long time, I thought my dad and my mum were perfect together. That was... until they divorced.

I remember the shouting, the closed doors. I didn't understand why the most important adults in my life were always fighting.

My father never said a word about what was happening, and I never told anyone how I felt. Like father like son, I suppose. But one day, while I was out shopping with my dad, I couldn't take it anymore. "Dad..."

I asked him why he and my mum were separating. He said, "Sometimes... two people love each other... but it isn't always enough."

"Maybe I should have said, I love you, more. But I didn't." "It's my fault. Just don't tell your mum. I still love her."

I didn't understand it at the time, but I kept my dad's secret. I never said a word.

Even when six months later he went out for a new job...

...and didn't come back.

I cried for months. I couldn't stop thinking about what he said. That he hadn't said, "I love you" enough. It was more complex than that, of course, but for him it wasn't.

Eventually, I grew older, went to school, graduated, got a job, fell in love, and created a family of my own. But I never forgot what my father told me. I realised I had a choice.

My dad never said, "I love you", but he showed it in his actions. It was just him. As for me, I could choose the same path or raise my family differently. In a way that was more me.

I made a choice. It was otterly difficult. But I promised to always tell the people I love how much they mean to me. And there is nothing wrong with not saying, "I love you". But I've learnt that it's always better to express what's in your heart, than to never express it at all.

There's no incredible point to this story. Just a reminder that it's really hard sometimes to do the simplest thing of all: express what's on our mind. My father's death taught me that the small things we do and say matter the most.

But it's especially hard in these stressful, painful times. So hey, maybe I'll start first...

You're awesome.

Don't give up.

You're going to be okay.

See ya next time.

The End.