JADE TAYLOR HERRMANN

FOREVER 22

Jade had the kind of presence that made the world stop for a moment. There was something in the way she carried herself - quiet but fierce, soft but unshakable. She had those eyes—deep, dark, and endless, like they held the entire universe inside them. Eyes that saw everything, that understood more than she ever should have had to. They were the kind of eyes that pulled you in, that made you believe, even for a second, that maybe she knew some great secret about life that the rest of the world hadn’t figured out yet.

She was wise beyond her years, strong in ways that most people never got to see. The kind of strong that doesn’t come from muscle or force, but from knowing - from feeling too much and still finding a way to love, to laugh, to shine. She was a light, even when she didn’t feel like one.

And she was music.

"If I could relive one moment with my daughter, it would be when we sang the most beautiful duet together—‘Say Something.’ I felt that moment so deeply; our souls intertwined."

Music was a language she spoke fluently, not just with her voice, but with her heart. When she sang, it wasn’t just a song - it was something real, something felt. In that duet, time slowed. Two voices, two souls, meeting somewhere between sound and silence, in a space that only they could understand.

But if Jade ever feared insignificance, if she ever wondered if she had left her mark, her mother knows the truth.

"Kid… I can’t even begin to explain how loved you were and still are! You were such a bright light and touched SO many lives. Your fears of being insignificant were never real. You left your mark on this earth, and your legacy is a powerful one."

And that legacy—her laughter, her strength, those dark, brown and beautiful knowing eyes — will never fade. She left pieces of herself everywhere: in the voices of those who still sing, in the hearts of those who still love her, in the spaces that feel too empty without her.

"I love you with everything I am, baby girl. Save a spot for me up there, right next to you."

Jade, you were never small. You were never invisible. You were infinite. And you always will be.

July 10, 2002 – November 12, 2024
Denver, Colorado