And yet only one has truly captured my full heart.
Only one who I was able to see grow up from a six month tiny baby to a four year old man-sized boy.
Only one who I spent countless hours with, took countless walks with, and made countless PICU memories with.
One who helped me fall in love with Dr Seuss books, largely because of the ear to ear smiles that would spread over his face as I tripped over my words.
One who taught me every word backwards and forwards to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and certain Sponge Bob episodes.
One who never got tired of my silly rendition of Itsy, Bitsy Spider.
One who taught me just what it means to be a patient advocate, and one that I advocated just like he was my own son.
One who would smile at very few people as they walked into his room, but I was lucky enough to be one of those few.
One who cried as I left at the end of my shift on multiple occasions.
One who has filled my Nursing Box with more photos, drawings, and cards than any other patient.
One who helped to instill a true, deep passion for the PICU in me.
One who I am now mourning for.
Heaven truly has gained an extra special angel this weekend.
While it was much too soon for you to be taken, and I wish for just one more longer lasting good-bye where I give you kisses all over your face as you roll your eyes, I know that this life cannot offer you what you will have in Heaven.
You have thrown off your cumbersome body brace and are running through the streets of heaven. You have removed your trach and are able to breath freely and easily. Your voice and precious giggle can now be heard once again.
Know sweet boy, that you are loved. Know that you are cherished. Know that you are etched in our hearts. And know that you are so deeply and so dearly missed.
Rest in peace little one.