A Whisper From Lilly...

There are details about our children that live forever inside a mother’s heart — the way they smile, the sound of their laughter, the names the world gives them, the energy they carry into every room.

My daughter Lilly had a light that everyone felt. Her friends adored her, and the affectionate nickname they gave her became part of who she was, a symbol of how loved she was by the people around her.

After losing her, even the smallest reminder of her felt like a tap on my heart. Not painful — just tender. A reminder of a life so beautifully lived and so deeply loved. But nothing prepared me for the day one of those reminders arrived in a way I could never explain.

When Tiger came into our lives, I ordered a dog-house bed for him, wanting to make him feel at home. I requested a simple plaque engraved with his name, TIGER. Nothing fancy. I didn’t give it a second thought.

But when the bed arrived and I opened it, my heart dropped.

The plaque didn’t say Tiger - it said LILO.

Spelled perfectly. Clear as day. A name nobody in that company could have randomly chosen. A name that belonged to my daughter. In that moment, I felt it—not imagined, not hoped for, but felt it was Lilly. Reaching out. Letting me know:

“Mom, I’m here. I’m still with you. And yes… I sent him.

It was her way of comforting me, of staying connected in the only way she could now. And as a mother, I felt it with absolute clarity. Our children always find ways to speak to us — even when their voices live beyond this world.

Those signs didn’t stop there.

Recently, we took our first family vacation since losing Lilly. Even planning it felt heavy — stepping into joy, into travel, into experiences she wasn’t physically part of. A part of me wondered how I would feel being somewhere new without her beside us.

But from the beginning of the trip, the signs began again.

Moments that arrived at the perfect time. Reminders that felt too meaningful to be random. A sense, again and again, that she was walking with us. A familiar word appearing unexpectedly. A symbol tied to her spirit. A feeling — warm, steady — landing right when my heart needed it most.

It was as if she whispered through the world around us:

“Don’t think for a moment that I’m not part of this. I’m with you. Always.”

Grief teaches you how to feel without seeing, how to hear without sound, how to notice the gentle ways love continues. And on this trip, I realized something every mother hopes is true:

My daughter has never left me.

Her presence didn’t fade; it transformed. She travels with us. She celebrates with us. She shows up in the exact ways she knows I will recognize. And I realized something profound....

Lilly wasn’t missing from our family vacation. She was woven into every moment of it.

Grief has its own language, but so does love. And Lilly’s love — her presence — shows itself in small, unmistakable ways. Over time, these signs have become her signature. Her way of reaching out. Her way of whispering:

“Mom, our bond didn’t end. It only changed shape.”

So now, when those signs appear, I don’t think of loss. I think of love, Connection, Presence.

Lilly is my daughter.

My heart.

My forever.

And she will always, always find her way back to me.