One year has passed since Levi’s laughter last echoed through the house.
But to those who loved him, it feels like yesterday — the sound of his giggle, the patter of his little feet, the way he called out for his sisters.

Levi was only two years old, yet his joy filled every room like sunshine after a storm.

He was a boy bursting with energy and wonder.
He loved cars, trucks, and rocks — tiny treasures he would proudly carry in his pockets.

He could spend hours watching Toy Story or Cars, clapping and laughing at his favorite parts, his eyes wide with excitement.

He loved snacks almost as much as he loved sharing them — always offering a bite to someone else first.

That was Levi — generous, gentle, and full of love.

His sisters, Lilly and Ellie, were his whole world.

He followed them everywhere, copying their every move, his face lighting up whenever they laughed.

To him, they were not just playmates — they were heroes.

And he, in return, was their sunshine.
Together, they built forts out of blankets, danced in the living room, and sang songs that made their parents’ hearts melt.

Levi was the kind of child who loved deeply and openly.
He gave hugs freely — tight, warm embraces that lingered just long enough to make you forget your worries.

His laughter had a melody of its own, and his heart was as big as his dreams.

But then came the diagnosis no one saw coming — Hepatoblastoma, a rare and aggressive form of liver cancer.

He was so young — too young to understand why the world around him suddenly changed.

The hospital became his playground, the nurses his new friends.
And even there, he smiled.

There were days filled with needles, treatments, and exhaustion that no child should ever endure.

But Levi faced it all with a bravery that astonished everyone.
He sang through pain, laughed between treatments, and found joy in the smallest moments — a new toy car, a song on TV, a hug from Mom.

His parents held onto hope with trembling hands.
Every good day felt like a miracle.

Every smile felt like a victory.
They prayed for healing, for time, for the impossible — anything to keep their little boy in their arms a little longer.

Even as his body grew weaker, Levi’s spirit refused to fade.
He still danced in his hospital bed.
He still handed out his toys to nurses and whispered “thank you” after every test.

He still asked for Toy Story and laughed when Woody said, “You’ve got a friend in me.”
And he did — everyone who met him became his friend.

In his final weeks, the laughter slowed, but the love never stopped.

He clung to his stuffed animals, smiled at his sisters, and held his parents’ hands tightly.

There were tears — countless tears — but also peace, because Levi’s love was stronger than fear.

He left this world surrounded by those who loved him most, wrapped in warmth, wrapped in grace.

December 3rd, 2023.
The day heaven gained the sweetest little angel.

The day the world lost a light too pure to stay.

He was just two years old — but in those two years, Levi taught his family more about love, courage, and kindness than most learn in a lifetime.

Now, one year later, his presence still fills their hearts.

They see him in the clouds shaped like toy cars.

They hear him in laughter that echoes unexpectedly.
They feel him in every gentle breeze that brushes their cheeks.

His sisters still talk to him before bed.

His parents still whisper goodnight.

Because Levi isn’t gone — not really.
He’s just somewhere brighter, free of pain, with pockets full of stars instead of rocks.

💛 Fly high, sweet Levi. You were a gift, a light, and a lesson in love. We miss you beyond words.