The last time his family saw him, Connor gave a kiss on the cheek and pulled them into one of his warm, familiar hugs—the kind that made the world feel a little softer, a little better. It was an ordinary moment, the kind that happens a thousand times without a second thought. But if they had known it was the last, they would have never let go.

If given one more chance, one more moment, his family knows exactly what they would say. They would hold him tighter, look him in the eyes, and tell him what he must have already known:

"I will always love you—MORE!"

That love, unshaken and endless, is what defined Connor’s life. He was the kind of person who gave without hesitation, who never let his own struggles keep him from showing up for others. No matter what he was facing, he cared. He helped. He loved. His family wants the world to remember him for that—for the kindness he carried so effortlessly, for the way he made people feel seen, for the way he could light up a room just by walking into it.

And, oh, that smile. The one that could shift the energy of an entire space, that could turn a hard day into something lighter, that made people feel safe and welcome. His family misses it every single day. They miss the small things too—the off-key whistling that used to fill the air, the way he was always there, steady and unwavering.

His mother speaks of him with an ache that time will never soften: “He was always there for me, no matter what. I miss my baby.”

Connor should still be here. He should still be laughing, still be helping, still be wrapping people in those hugs that felt like home. But love like his doesn’t disappear. It lingers, in the stories his family will tell, in the warmth of every memory, in the spaces where he should still be standing.

His story is not over, because love like his never fades.

Connor, you are deeply missed. You are forever loved. And you always, always will be.