10/01/2026
🧡 Dear Finn,
It’s the last day of September. The last day of the month we gave you your last kiss .
I wish I could tell you that it gets easier, but the truth is, September is still the hardest month of our life.
This picture was of us September 2, 2024—Labor Day—when we were told you would have to move from the BMT floor( our home away from home) into the PICU at Cincinnati Children’s. I remember holding you as you cried telling you “ it will only be for a day or two. I remember the fear in your eyes . I remember holding onto hope. I remember praying that somehow, someway, we would get you back to BMT floor and then we would get to take you HOME.
But, as hard as you tried everything kept going wrong. “The perfect storm “ is what your doctors called it.
September 20, 2024, your life and our world stopped.
You were only 12.
There are days when it still doesn't feel real. I still expect to see you sitting on your spot on the couch playing on your laptop and asking me to make you popcorn. I still catch myself wishing I could hear your voice, see your smile, smell you hair, or hear just one more “Finn fact”. I would give absolutely anything for one more cuddle.
September has come. We celebrated you and your legacy at Be Like Finn Night. We wore gold . We said your name. We told your stories. We raised funds to do what you wanted “help kids like me”. September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. But,
September is also the month that took you from us.
Sometimes that feels cruel. But I've realized that maybe September isn't only about the worst days of our lives.
Maybe it's also about what we do with the love that remains.
The love we have for you, Finn.The love we have with no place to go.
That love now goes to every child fighting the battle you fought.
To every mom and dad sitting beside a A hospital bed, praying for more time.
To every family who has heard the words, "Your child has cancer."
To every child whose story ended far too soon.
My sweet boy,
Your life matters.
Your kindness matters.
Your 12 years mattered.
You taught us that even when life is incredibly hard, we can still choose kindness. We can still make someone smile. We can still show up for others.
I couldn’t save you, buddy. And I can't go back and change what happened.
But I can make sure your life continues to make a difference.
I can carry your name into hospital rooms.
I can love families who are walking the road we walked.
I can bring comfort to children who are scared.
I can keep telling your story.
And I can keep choosing kindness—just like you did.
September will always hurt.
But it will also remind me that I am your mom. And that I was lucky enough to love you for 12 incredible years.
I miss you more than words could ever say. You are my forever and always 🧡
You ARE:
A brave boy.
A kind boy.
A boy who loved fiercely.
A boy who left this world far too soon.
Forever 12. Forever my boy. Forever my reason.🧡
I Love you till the day is long and the night is dark, forever and always 🧡
Love,
Mommy
Be like Finn. Be brave. Be kind. Be giving.
