Luke radiated pure joy and happiness—from the top of his sandy brown hair to the tips of his pudgy little toes. His laughter was contagious, his spirit larger than life, and to know Luke was to love him… even on his sneaky, stubborn, “my way or the highway” kind of days.
He lived boldly, loved fiercely, and filled every space he entered with light.
Through the gift of his life donation, Luke became the hero he always dreamed of being. Just like his favorite superheroes, he saved lives—bringing hope to four families who were facing the unimaginable reality of life without their child. In that, his legacy lives on in the most powerful way.
I like to imagine that somewhere out there is a child with Luke’s heart—fearlessly hanging upside down, giving their mama a head full of gray hair and more love than she can possibly hold. Maybe they’ve developed a sudden love for hockey, dinosaurs, firetrucks, or giraffes. Maybe they’ve discovered a new spark on the soccer field. Little pieces of Luke, still moving, still growing, still shining.
I would give anything to hold him again. But I find comfort in knowing he’s never far—that he’s still checking in, still surrounding us, still loving us in ways we can’t always see but can always feel.
My sweet boy, my hero—your light didn’t end. It multiplied.
