My beloved little sister, you fought a hard fight, and I am so sorry for the pain you suffered, but now you are at peace. I miss your big, bright smile and fun sense of humor and generous heart. You were beautiful inside and out. Thank you so much for sharing my childhood, all the memories I hold in my heart, memories that only the two of us shared. How I wish I could have saved you! Losing you was a TRAGEDY! You live on in my heart forever. I love you always precious, baby sister Louann, beautiful one.
Rest in peace.
Your big sister

My love will never fade…..my heart will never be whole…..half of my soul is with you…..sending hugs and kisses

Dan, October 20, 2024, is a day forever etched into my mind—the worst day of my life.

It was the day I went to the place you called “the store,” the place where you spent so much time with the person you considered your best friend. It was also the place where I found you.

Cold. Alone. Gone.

I searched for you. At first, I couldn’t find you among the clutter, garbage, and junk piled throughout the room. Then I saw you. You were lying on your side, arranged in a way that made it appear as though you had passed peacefully.

But I knew better. Your back surgery never allowed you to sleep in that position.

Something wasn’t right. I knelt beside you and touched you, hoping somehow I could wake you up.

You were cold. I bent down a second time and whispered in your ear: “I love you. I will always love you.”

Then I walked outside, found a police officer, and from that moment on, the nightmare only grew. Days turned into weeks as we waited for answers. J

ust after Christmas, we finally learned how you died. Learning the circumstances of your death brought deep shock and heartbreak, and we continue to live with many unanswered questions.

You struggled in life. I won’t deny that. But those particular drugs were not part of your story.

In fact, the night before your mother last saw you, you told her something she had prayed to hear. You said you were tired of using. You said you didn’t like that life anymore. You wanted to get clean.

You wanted a future. You wanted better.

You were trying to move on.

That is why I will never stop questioning what happened. There are things that don’t make sense.

And so I sit with the questions that never leave me. I think about all the times I warned you about that friendship.

You helped others fight for sobriety.

Because that’s who you were, Danny. You helped people. You cared about people. You gave pieces of yourself away every day without expecting anything in return.

I think of the elderly neighbors whose trash you carried, whose groceries you unloaded, whose cars you dug out after snowstorms—never asking for a dime. I think of the doors you opened, the chairs you pulled out, the respect you showed to everyone you met. I think of the homeless people you fed. The clothes, shoes, and jackets you gave away—sometimes literally off your own back. Even now, I still run into people who tell me stories about your kindness. Stories I never heard when you were alive. Story after story about the good you put into this world. And every time I hear one, I ask the same question: Why?

Why was someone with such a huge heart taken away? Why did your life end so soon? Why you?

There is never an answer. Only pain. I close my eyes and I still see you lying on that cold floor. I remember having to help plan your funeral. I remember helping choose your urn. I remember having to tell your oldest son that his father was gone. I remember finding you—something neither of us ever would have wanted.

We were thick as thieves, Danny. We shared a bond that cannot be replaced. And now the distance between us feels impossible. My heart aches every day for one more conversation, one more laugh, one more chance to tell you how much you were loved. Now all I have are photographs, memories, and a handful of personal belongings that I cherish more than words can express. I wear your ashes every single day. You go everywhere with me.

And I still cry—almost every day—because I miss you so much. I love you, Danny. You should not have left this world the way you did. It was not your time. But no matter how much time passes, you will never be forgotten. You are loved. You are remembered. And you will always be missed. Forever.

I love you Danny. Always.

Jeremiah 9/10/22 and Daniel 5/27/20, both a loving son, father, brother, uncle and friends to many. Jeremiah is also a grandfather. We keep your memory alive by continuing to talk about you, share stories and pictures. You touched many lives with your willingness to help those in need. You are missed more than any words could say. You will remain in our hearts always.

On May 17th 2018 at the age of 31 we lost our Beloved Son, a Father, a Brother and a wonderful friend to many. You will never be forgotten Drake as we watch your son grow. We miss you so very much! Love always!