One Month Without You, Skylar
It’s been one month without you, sweet Skylar.
One month since our family’s hearts broke in ways we’ll never fully understand. One month since the world lost your light — a light I wish I’d gotten to know.
I met you, but not really. You were so tiny, so fragile, and already fighting a battle no child should ever face. I didn’t get to see your smile or hear your laugh. I didn’t get to watch you grow, to chase bubbles, or to see that sparkle everyone says you had in your eyes. I met you just days before you took your last breath — and even in that brief moment, you left a mark on my heart that will never fade.
Your mommy, daddy, brother, Nini, and Pop miss you more than words can describe. I see the ache in their faces and hear it in their voices. They talk about you with so much love — the way your eyes lit up, your love for rubber ducks, how you filled their world with joy in such a short time. I’ve learned so much about who you were through them, and it makes me both grateful and heartbroken all at once.
Every time I see a little yellow duck, I think of you. It’s funny how something so small can carry so much meaning now. It’s like you’re still sending tiny reminders that you’re close — that love doesn’t end, even when life does.
I wish I’d had the chance to really know you, Skylar — to play with you, laugh with you, and watch you grow into the girl everyone saw glimpses of. But even though I didn’t get that time, I love you. I carry you with me.
You’ll always be our rubber-duck–loving angel, our family’s sunshine who left too soon.
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