The National Addiction Memorial honors the loved ones we’ve lost.

Mike was a wonderful human. He was a loving and devoted father, son, family member, and friend, fierce in his commitment to be there and do what he could for those around him. He was the living personification of laughter and kindness, and all who knew him walked away from their conversation with Mike wearing a smile on their face.

When Mike was interested in something, it became a passion. He loved the Philadelphia Eagles, music (so many genres, from Wu-Tang to 80s pop ballads), and dancing like nobody was watching. He was the biggest nerd, totally unapologetic in his love for video games, superheroes, comic books and terrible movies.. the kind that weren’t supposed to make you laugh, but did. He worked hard, loved skateboarding, podcasts, and trivia, and could proudly spout off the most obscure tidbits of information to anyone on any topic. But above all, Mike loved being a dad. He would watch on in awe of his little girl every day, and Evie saw her daddy as her own personal superhero.

Mike struggled with addiction for a large part of his life, but he fought tooth and nail to overcome it. As his family, we hope that these donations made in Mike’s name can help other people and their families through their struggle with this debilitating disease, and help to end the stigmas that continue to surround it.

He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He hated seeing people sad. He’d want us to remember all the times he made us laugh, and that special way he had of making everyone feel like they mattered. So for Mike, we hope that everyone he knew can remember. Share your stories of happiness and laughter with everyone who knew and loved him. Because Mike was a belly laugh on legs, the warm hug you didn’t even know you needed. And when the sun is shining, and the birds are singing, and you can’t help but smile, that’s Mike reminding you how much he loved each and every one of us.

Mike was and always will be our favorite Superhero.

Those who knew Ross, even just a little, lost a shining light in their life.

Ross had an infectious smile that would light up a room, fun loving energy and a deeply optimistic outlook on life. At a very early age Ross adopted the Saint Louis Blues, Kansas City Chiefs and the Saint Louis Cardinals as his teams. He had a genuine and passionate love for playing hockey and disc golf, and he spent 14 years of his life playing on competitive teams. Ross found joy in nature, he loved to hike, camp, tube and collect rocks and crystals. Ross was a graduate of Cy-Fair High School in Cypress, TX class of 2011. His favorite saying when asked what he had been up to or how he was doing was always “living the dream."

Ross was handsome, outgoing, compassionate, and he had an infectious smile that lit up a room. He had the patience for everything and would do anything for anyone who asked. We lived the typical American middle-class life growing up, two parents, 3 siblings a home raised on faith and all the love any child could ask for. But as everyone should know, addiction does not discriminate, it does not have a description and criteria as to who can fall victim. Addiction it is like a tornado as it touches down: it affects everything in its path, a violent whirlwind of pain, guilt, shame, and fear, leaving wreckage all around, fleecing anyone in the path. A tornado touched down in our family in 2015 and little did we know it would go on to impact our family for the rest of our lives.

Ross played competitive hockey for 12 years, not only did he love the sport, he excelled at it. He had injured his back as a teenager during a game one night, healed, and went on with his life. Ross began working for my grandfather’s brick laying company in Kansas City, Missouri, after college and the long hours of labor, bending over, lifting, and moving bricks began to irritate his once injured back. He went to see a doctor who recommend fusing S1-L5 of his spine together. At the age of 22, this was not the ideal route to go, but the pain began to disrupt his everyday life, the pain was becoming a constant irritation. After discussing his other options, the doctor proceeded with pain management by prescribing the opioid Oxycontin. 3 years later, Ross moved back to Houston, he was struggling. He masked it so well, it was not until almost a year later that the reality of what he was going through came to light. This doctor was still prescribing Ross 17 Oxy’s a day, each month, and was not even seeing him in person. ‘Friends’ would go pick up the prescription and mail it to him from Kansas City, but, not without a cost of course. They began making him pay and then would take half, if not over half of them, before sending it down to Houston.

Did you know that ONE Oxycontin on the street costs $30 and a bag of Heroin cost $15-$20? This is the reason those that struggle with addiction from an opioid prescription end up using heroin, it is cheaper and easier to access. Ross was sold straight fentanyl on April 29th, 2020 and we lost Ross to addiction on April 30th, 2020. We have a small amount of justice for Ross, the dealer was arrested on Federal charges for distribution of illegal substances causing death, 4 other deaths around the same time were also tied to this man.

Stigma tells us that those who struggle with addiction don’t really try. “Why can’t they just say no?” stigma says. Please know that stigma lies. Glancing back now, I realize that stigma kept our family in silence. It told Ross he should be ashamed and disgraced. It told our family to stay quiet for fear of judgment. People focus on the addiction, not the person. What a lie, because addiction is such a small part of who they are. The one thing addiction could not take from Ross is how much he loved us and how much we loved him.

Not one day has gone by that I do not ache, I could never put into words how much I miss him, I would give anything for one more minute, one more hug, one more laugh. This loss has been unimaginable. There are still days I feel like it cannot be real, but I have found that the best way to rebuild our lives after this tornado is to help others. I want to make a difference for other families, be the voice for those we have lost to this disease and the light for those searching for support. Ross always searched for his purpose; I know now that his purpose lives on in me, I am meant to be a voice, an advocate, an ambassador in raising awareness. Life always brings you where you are meant to be.

Together we must find a way to make this path easier to travel. Families need resources, support, and the power to break down the barriers of stigma. I am proud to be Ross’ voice.

Since I lost my brother to an accidental overdose of fentanyl, 2 things have remained constant:
1. I still love my little brother
2. I still HATE the drugs that took him.

I will always be your voice Ross; I will never stop fighting and advocating for change.

I love you Ross.

The saying that “only the good die young” was reaffirmed on May 22, 2020, when Gardner Paxon Westgate, age 31, found eternal peace as he returned to a better place. Gardner was born in Columbia, Missouri, on August 2, 1988, to Pamela Walker Knight and Dr. Steven Judson Westgate as the fifth of six children. He attended Bingham High School in South Jordan, Utah, where he caused mischief and developed life-long friendships. Gardner made a career in marketing with AvTech Capital and ran his own business on the side.

Gardner’s smile and optimism were infectious. He radiated joy that could positively alter the mood in any room. He was kind, loving, and generous. Before someone could finish asking Gardner for a favor, he had already raced out the door to help. These characteristics allowed Gardner to make friends with people from all walks of life. He had an uplifting presence on social media that inspired many and drew him and his wife, Jordan, together. They were married at Snowbasin Resort in March 2017 and welcomed their baby girl, Ariya, into the world the following year.

From the moment she was born, Ariya was the light of Gardner’s life. He doted on Ariya day and night and never hesitated to help care for her. Gardner enjoyed hiking, swimming, walking, playing, reading, and laughing with Ariya. She has a smile and laugh reserved only for him. Ariya is a daddy’s girl through and through.

Gardner had wanderlust. During the last four-and-a-half years of his life, he traveled to 10 countries and 22 states. He and Jordan celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans, rang in the new year in Las Vegas, kissed in front of the Eiffel Tower, gazed at Big Ben from the London Eye, admired the Acropolis of Athens and the Roman Colosseum, experienced spring break on South Beach, and cheered on their opposing football teams—the Eagles and Seahawks—in Seattle. They spent countless hours on road trips talking, laughing, and driving across the country together. They packed a lifetime of adventure into a few short years.

Gardner was an audacious thrill seeker. If an activity was dangerous or adrenaline inducing, he was not only interested, he had probably already tried it. For him, the speed limit was merely a suggestion—he enjoyed driving fast on his bullet bike or in his Subaru WRX. He loved “bombing down hills” on his snowboard or longboard and climbing up rocks. Gardner fearlessly jumped off cliffs or out of airplanes. He was bold.

Gardner was hilarious. He enjoyed scouring the Internet for funny memes, GIFs, and videos and would often tell inappropriate jokes that could leave you either cringing or gasping for breath from laughter. He was intelligent, creative, and talented. Gardner was a guitarist and an accomplished artist who could draw breathtaking portraits. He taught himself search engine optimization and made a career out of that skill. He could do anything he set his mind to.

For Gardner, “carpe diem” was not simply an aspiration, it was a way of life. He marveled at the beauty of the sunrise and noticed life’s glorious, minute details that are often overlooked by others. He embraced each day as if it were his last. His story will be an inspiration and lesson to all those lucky enough to know him. Gardner will forever exist peacefully in the special “golden hour” that warms the earth as the sun begins to set.

He is survived by his wife, Jordan; daughter, Ariya; father, Dr. Steven Westgate (Lynelle); mother, Pamela Knight (George); siblings, Stephanie (Luke), Priscilla (Drew), Judson (Becky), Cydney (Ben), and Daphne; six step-brothers and sisters, eleven nieces and nephews, his two beloved dogs, Leo and Marley; and countless other loving family members and friends. He is preceded in death by his paternal grandparents, Judson Hugh Westgate and Marion Frieda DiPasquale (Francis); and his maternal grandfather, John Arthur Walker.

Taylor, a great chess player at 7, an excellent student- with no studying. A guitarist and lover of music. Above all else loves his family and his friends. My son is more than just a kid, he was an exceptional human. His struggle was real and impactful. Not to be confused as just an “addict” - he is a human that is loved and missed by so many - for those that didn’t meet him, maybe you will someday......In a chess play, lyrics, a musical chord, a smile that shines brighter, and the list goes on. May you find the compassionate heart to always find the good, in spite of what may seem .....

My mom, Shawnaé was incredibly talented. She was an amazing cook, artist, athlete, and taught me so much. She was my best friend. She left behind 4 kids. She struggled with addiction after becoming addicted to Oxy and went in and out of rehabs, jail and eventually prison. She was sober and doing good, and got off parole. Unfortunately the grip her addiction had on her was too much, she lost her battle on November 24 2018 due to overdose of carfentanil. I miss my mom everyday and wish she would be there to meet her first grandchild in a few months. She was such a beautiful soul, & will be forever missed by so many.

Derek battled with addiction for at least 15 years. He truly wanted to beat the demons and had 8 months clean when the demons took him. Derek has two beautiful daughters that were his motivation for life and being a better human. He also has 7 siblings that he loved and hated all at the same time. He was a free spirit, always giving and full of life. He had no fear and would try just about anything. His infectious smile, beautiful dimples, and easygoing nature will be greatly missed by so many. Rest easy "Coggy". We love you and miss you so very much.

Matthew was an incredible man. He had a servants heart. He was so creative and funny and artistic. He was loved.

Janine was so much more than the disease that led to her untimely death. She was a beautiful person with a beautiful soul. She was a loving daughter, sister, friend, wife, and mother to her twin babies: Jack Jr. and Allison.

Janine had an old soul; I felt that from the moment we reconnected in sixth grade after a two-year break in our friendship (we originally met and became best friends in pre-school). She was wise beyond her years, and though she was only one year older than me, she was often more of a second mother or older sister to me than a best friend. She was the person I always went to for advice. She was someone who would never judge me or think any worse of me no matter what I said or did. She was always there for me. But enough about me. I want to talk about Janine.

I want to tell you about her infectious laugh and her cheerful spirit which had always shown through, even during her darkest moments. I want to tell you how she was the person who could always make friends with the loneliest person in the crowd, the person no one else would waste their time or energy talking to. She could always make them talk. And laugh. And feel loved and welcomed. I want to tell you how she would give you the coat off her back, even if it left her freezing. That is the kind of person she was. That was the kind of love she had.

If you ever needed her, she would be there in a moment's notice; no hesitation, no questions asked. Janine brought me soup and bread when I was sick. She drove me around in her car late at night when I was sad and needed a friend to listen. She went out of her way to be there for every special occasion; she made sure that every achievement no matter how big or small would not go unnoticed. She loved in a way few are capable of even understanding.

Janine's journey down the dark path of substance abuse started when she was legally prescribed opioids for pain. Like so many others, she soon grew tolerant and her prescribed medications no longer provided the relief they once had. Eventually, after a long struggle, she turned to heroin. It was cheaper. It was more accessible. It stopped the pain. And it was addictive as hell. She found recovery; she made it nine months substance-free. She started working again. She started taking care of herself again. She started realizing the many factors that led her down that road; a road she never wanted to be dragged down again. But one moment, one temptation to use again was all that it took to take her away from us. The world is a darker place without her light in it. There is not one moment of one day that I am not thinking of her.

We love you Janine, now and always. Your babies are safe in our care. We will make sure they know just how much you loved them. Please watch over us. And please: if you have a loved one struggling with substance use disorder, tell them you love them. And be there when they are ready to accept your help. Everyone deserves another chance at life.

"See you in the car."

Matt was extraordinary…and so it goes….

He loved anything that made him move fast and found peace cruising on a long board or dropping in on a snowy mountain.

He watched off the wall movies and left the subtitles on because he said it made him pay attention.

He wiped noses and tied shoes for the love of teaching art.

He connected with all creatures, big and small, especially four legged ones.

He said, “yes sir” and “yes ma’am” and gave respect to everyone who crossed his path.

He juggled oranges and could walk on his hands.

He loved to discover new words and challenged us to figure out the definitions.

He diced an onion in under a minute.

He persevered and became a second degree black belt in martial arts.

He conquered his fear of performing before crowds and grew to love strumming his guitar for anyone who wanted to listen.

He missed a lot of planes yet always managed to get to where he was going.

He worked on sculpting an Aetosaur that is permanently on display at Appalachian State.

He let a spider take up residence in the corner of his room simply because he didn’t mind sharing the space.

He believed it when he was told by his mom at the age of 7 that he ran so fast his feet left the ground.

Underneath his many layers, Matt struggled with anxiety and depression. He turned towards drugs and alcohol to ease his pain. His personal battles led him searching for a higher high until his very last day when heroin finally won. Matt conquered many things. Addiction wasn’t one of them. We are hoping by sharing Matt’s story, we contribute to the end of the stigma surrounding addiction and help people realize that addiction isn’t a choice, it’s a disease.

We are heartbroken, yet grateful for the 24 years we spent together. We take comfort in knowing one day we will meet again. He wouldn’t want his addiction to define who he was because he was so much more than that.

Matt was a dreamer, a teacher, a poet, an artist, a friend, a son, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, a brother. He was ours and we were his.

Selena Bologna had the biggest heart and smile. Selena was a daughter, a sister, and a good friend. She loved deeply and was a very giving person. She struggled with drug addiction from the time she was a teenager until she was 26 and it took her life. Selena started out using drugs recreationally but after some time it turned into a lifestyle that she couldn't get out of. Things really took a turn for the worst when Selena was sent to jail for a DUI. Instead of jail helping her, she was introduced to fentanyl. Selena needed help and never received the appropriate treatment. This addiction took Selena's life and replaced it with broken hearts. Selena was so full of life and potential and her life was taken too soon. Selena should be remembered for her fire spirit, her boisterous laugh, and her giving soul. Addiction is a silent killer and it needs to be talked about. We are hoping that Selena's memorial and story will help save another family from having to go through this heartbreak. Rest in Peace, Selena Francesca Bologna (December 6, 1993- May 11, 2020)

My beloved son, lost way too soon to addiction. Miss him dearly.

A love letter to my Elizabeth ....

My darling baby girl
My Life’s light
My Life’s Love
My sweet and so very troubled daughter

Honey...you always hated the dark. Remember all the times I would lay next to until you fell asleep. My sweet Lizzy it’s not dark any more.
Honey...can you see the light? Mommy wants you to follow the light
You, see It’s ok to leave this earthly world now
Lizzy...Do you see Heaven? You do don’t you, awww honey it’s time to run through the clouds and sit with the Angels

And honey when you get there, I just know...
Roxy your sweet pup will be waiting to jump in your lap again
Grandma and Grandpa are gonna wrap their arms around you, and smother you with kisses. With them you will be safe for all eternity.
Uncle Dan is waiting too. He can’t wait to entertain you again with his Donald Duck imitations
Sweet cousin Mike wants a hug too...and you know once he starts hugging he can’t stop
And all of your relatives that you never got to meet during your earthly visit- are waiting to embrace and care for you now
See why is is ok to follow the light Elizabeth...because all those times you felt all alone while you were here are no longer. You will never be alone again my precious baby girl

Elizabeth, you are free now ...
No more addiction
No more drugs
No more demons

My Sweet Angel
You are safe now
Our Savior, knew it was time to save you and He did
He knew you tried. Just like we knew you did too
He knew you wanted to be free from the addiction that consumed your life for so long, exhausted from all the years of trying so hard, but never succeeding
He knew you were so very tired
He knew it was time to bring you home and save you from a life that you could no longer navigate on your own
Home, free from all the demons of addiction that haunted you on your earthly stay

So tonight, Elizabeth, when your mom looks to the starry skies above
I will view them as heavenly openings for you to shine down on me and Nug
And in those moments, we will see you with Roxy...as you always wanted to be, happy and free from addiction

Love mom

Kevin Michael Simon 3/11/1992 – 1/29/2016

Kevin was a kind and gentle soul who loved his family, his dog, his friends, and his music.

We were caught completely off guard. He didn’t look like what we thought someone suffering
from substance use disorder would look like. He graduated from college, came to all our family
functions, and maintained lifelong friendships.

He also suffered from anxiety and he discovered that heroin made him feel ‘normal’.
We will forever miss our beautiful boy

David was a kind and loving young man. He was adopted as an infant by Jeff and Madelene Myers and raised in Howell, NJ. He had a great group of friends and loved skateboarding and especially gaming.

He dabbled with marijuana from a young age and this ultimately led to heroin. He fought so long and hard to get sober and stay sober but the addiction grabbed him back. He lost his fight yesterday due to an accidental overdose.

We hope that by supporting your organization, we can save just one "David" from the ravages of addiction. He would want that.

My dad was funny, adventure seeking, talented, and always let us know how much he loved us. He was fascinated with the moon and the stars. He enjoyed skydiving, fishing, racing jet skis when he was younger, and riding quads. He was full of life and had so much intuition. He was a fighter, and never wanted his addiction to define who he was, because he was so much more than that. He never let us forget how important we were and that whatever we wanted to do in this life, we could. He meant the world to all of us.

My son was an only child. He had this sparkle in his eye and everyone wanted to be around him from the time he was born. In the summers there would be as many as 13 kids a day at our house. He had a heart of gold and would help anyone. He stuck up for the kids that were bullied and was full of jokes that made everyone laugh. He was my best friend. I had him when I was 17 so we kind of grew up together. We would ride bicycles for 12 miles or go camping on our weekends. He would go to the skating rink with his dad on their weekends. At 15 he worked three jobs to get a quad he wanted because I couldn't afford it. He graduated from technical school with a license that only he received. He was the only one to match the paint colors; he was color blind. About that time he started experimenting and since he was a teenager and one thing would lead to something stronger he ended up addicted. He also became a father. He told me once that when he left this earth he wanted to leave something good on it. It was ironic because I had always said the same of him. They say waiting for the phone call is the hardest part...at that time I thought they were right. His drug of choice was Opana which is Oxy and Morphine mixed but with plastic mixed through to stop people from misusing it. On February 2, 2013, RJ was taken to the hospital with multi-system organ failure. I had to fight for his life as much as he did. Withdrawal would not remove the plastic. Friends helped me find two other cases and I located a CDC case which had happened in Tennessee the previous year in which plasmapheresis was the only thing that might help. I fought until they did it. He was in for 26 days and nearly died. We left the hospital 26 days after he entered but he needed kidney dialysis. He was weak, had no control of his bodily functions, and had some brain damage from being without oxygen but we worked on it. He slid down the stairs one day and there was a "pop". The plastic that was left in his kidneys came free and he didn't need dialysis anymore. He was back to himself just weaker and sober. He stayed that way for 5.5 months until he was around his old crowd. They got high that night; his heart couldn't take it. I woke up like a shot at 3:32 am. The coroner said that was about the time he passed away. That was the worst call I ever got; my ex-husband telling me my son was dead. He was the best part of me; it died that day too.

My mommy was the most amazing person I have ever met. She would help anyone out, she would give the shirt off her back. She and my stepfather worked construction, building big houses in East TN. My stepfather was the only father I had, so I called him Daddy. Daddy fell off a 3 story house and landed on his feet. He was in a lot of pain and had go to a doctor. That's how it started. Doctors gave him oxycontin 80s. And their struggle began when someone introduced them to needles. The addiction got 100x worse. We lost our brand new double wide. Me and my sister had move into my grandma's. But when mom and dad would come get us to stay with them, my sis wouldn't go. I told my parents I was miserable. Not even a week later I came home from school to see a single wide in our yard. My parents were junkies and I mean hard core junkies. My mom could do 1,000 mg of morphine (5 200 mg pills) in one shot and not die but still be sick. One of their closest friends said he had seen my dad hit my mom with 7 200mg pills and she told him ok, I'm not sick, give me more so now I can feel it please. And he did. Throughout their addiction they somehow managed to be great parents. I always had what I wanted and needed, the bills were always paid, food to eat. They were the strongest people I knew then and they are the strongest people I know now... But the hustle game got them penned and sent down state to do a bid. When they got out they separated. My mom did well for awhile, but old hurts (her baby sister's death) got to her and she started on drugs again. Then her mother died and she was lost. She bonded to my son but I knew somewhere deep down she was ready to go see her family.

When the bottom is not good ENOUGH.

My beautiful girl whose love meant the world to me, so much more than I understood until now, made a terrible choice many years ago. The reasons for which I’ll never understand. That choice led her to a life of addiction and pain.

So long to suffer. So deeply to fall into despair in a life so short. How many beautiful daughters and sons will it take for us to say ENOUGH?

The number of lost lives is staggering in itself, but also consider the devastation left in the wake of their addiction. The toll of sorrow and despair is enormous. In the end all we’re left with is pain that leaves a bottomless hole in our heart.

Jen fought through 10 years of recycled treatments. She was told we can’t help until she is ready. The answer will come when she reaches her bottom. Really? Would that course be acceptable to any other patient or family with any other disease?

The way to beat this is to fall as close to death as you can over and over again. Each time ripping the loved ones from your side as they can’t stand the pain themselves. Till there’s no one but you, alone at your bottom, left to die.

It has to change. Shatterproof sparks a new hope of a realistic understanding. Please take the time to listen and support in any way that you can. The addicted all have families that will continue to suffer until we all say ENOUGH.

My brother Russ was a great person. He was kind to everyone and would drop everything to help someone. He was a wonderful friend, son, and uncle. He loved boating, fishing, playing the accordion, and being around people.

His struggles started early in his teens with alcohol. My parents took him to counseling, tried "tough love", etc. He was diagnosed in his twenties with bipolar disorder but his doctor just gave him meds and no direction to seek counseling to learn coping skills, so he began to drink more until that wasn't working.

I knew he smoked pot on occasion but it wasn't until after his death and autopsy that I found out he was using opioids. Apparently my parents and I were in the dark as many of his friends knew but no one said anything to us. He was such a high functioning addict we never knew. He worked his whole life, owned his own house, paid his bills, etc.

I always thought he just struggled with alcoholism and would research rehab places for him that took his insurance and show him. Most of the time he would get pissed at me and say I was just no fun, but one time he told me "what would I do if I went there and wasn't me anymore, I'm the life of the party, I'd lose all my friends." That broke my heart.

The last conversation I had with him was a few days before he died, and he sounded really tired. I asked him if anything was wrong and he said that I worry too much. Then he was gone.

I can't imagine the daily struggle he went through, to not only deal with a mental illness but several addictions as well as the fear and shame that go with them. I am glad he is finally at peace but I miss him dearly.

Please if you know someone who is in trouble with addiction, say something. Yes they may hate you, but it's the right thing to do.

My sweet Charles was a such a kind, outgoing, caring young man. He left behind two beautiful babies when he passed. He’d struggled with addiction for several years but had been working on getting clean. He tried so hard to fight the demons that had him chained in the dungeon of addiction. I watched my baby fight so hard to beat it. He would do great until one of his so-called friends would call or message him saying they had the devil's folds and, as all addicts know, when you first start down this recovery road it’s not too bad till you hear of someone personally having it and they’ll bring you some and you pay them later or whatever the case is at the time. My sweet boy had a rough life growing up and I blame myself everyday for him becoming an addict because I’m one, but I’ve been on this road to recovery for three years now and I was trying to help him walk it with me. I always thought to myself how great it would be if we could walk this road together as we did in 2013, when we both got our GED and walked the graduation stage together, that this would be another great accomplishment that we could concur together. But my dreams of that were shattered into a million pieces. I struggle everyday to stay clean. It's so much harder now because I’d love nothing more than to go get it and forget I was alive for a while. This pain is indescribable and the grieving never ends. I cry everyday. I beg for him to come back, but I know I’ll never be that blessed. But I push through for his babies, because I know he’d want me to make sure they live the happiest life possible, and that they know he loves them very much, and he’s always with them no matter what and they can talk to him. So as long as I’m alive my baby's name will remain heard. His story will be repeated every chance I get and his babies will know what a wonderful daddy they had and that he went to be with Jesus because Jesus needed a special angel just for them, and he knew their daddy was the only one that could watch them and protect them the way they need to be protected. I know this is all over the place but so is my mind. I struggle to get everything out in words nowadays so please excuse the wording. I hope everyone can make sense of what I’m trying to say. I pray for everyone who has lost a loved one or child, for there's no worse pain in the world that’ll ever compare to losing a child. Thanks for reading my sweet boy short story. May god touch and bless us all xoxo