It started with two quick squeezes.

My grandmother had a way of telling me she loved me without saying the words.

She would take my small hand in hers, and squeeze it twice — quickly, one right after the other.

Two little pulses, like a heartbeat.

No words. No fuss. Just a signal only the two of us understood.

I knew exactly what they meant.

I love you.

She's gone now, but the signal never left me. I still feel those two quick squeezes every time I hold someone's hand.

So I passed it on. To my wife, across a crowded room or in the quiet of a Sunday morning. To my son, whose hand is still small enough to disappear inside mine — just like mine once disappeared inside hers.

Now it's our family's little language. Three generations connected by the simplest of gestures: two pulses that carry everything.

LovePulse exists so this doesn't stay ours. It's for anyone who has ever struggled to find the words — and everyone who wants to say something meaningful without saying anything at all.

My hope is simple: that somewhere out there, someone picks this up and carries it forward. A tradition of two quick squeezes, passed from hand to hand.