I've spent a lot of time over the last couple days looking back at pictures of Henry. He really was a happy, easy baby. He was up for anything, almost always smiling (even when he didn't feel well) and brought joy to so many people. It makes me wonder why...why was this little guy taken? What purpose does his loss serve? When will the physical ache in my heart ease? Why did such a wonderful baby have to suffer from such a horrible disease?
I don't know the answers to any of those questions. I may never know. What I do know is that Henry showed strength that I know I don't have. He brought so many people together, and showed us that there is good in the world. He is my baby boy, my son, my monster, my hero, my angel.
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