If love had weight, the world would have felt heavier the day Jeremy left it. There are people whose absence feels like a shift in gravity—who take something irreplaceable with them when they go. He was one of them. A man with a big heart, a laugh that could shake the room, and a presence that made life feel fuller, richer, better.

If only time could be undone, just for a moment. Just long enough for one more hug, one more second to wrap arms around him and hold on, to let him know—really know—how much he was loved. Just to hear his voice again, to listen to the way he spoke, the way his words filled the air with warmth and kindness.

"I love you so much."

That’s what would be said. No hesitation, no second-guessing. Because love like that never fades. It doesn’t shrink with time or disappear with distance. It lingers. It remains in the stories told over dinner tables and in the quiet moments when memories sneak up out of nowhere.

Jeremy wasn’t just a good person—he was goodness itself. He didn’t hesitate to help, didn’t hold back when someone needed him. His heart was open, generous, larger than life. And his laugh? It wasn’t something you just heard—it was something you felt. The kind of laughter that could turn the worst day around, the kind that stays with you even when everything else feels too quiet.

His time here wasn’t enough. It never could have been. But the love he left behind? That will never go away.

Jeremy, you are missed in ways that words will never touch. But you are here. In the echoes of your laughter. In the kindness you gave so freely. In the love that refuses to let you go.

And you never will be forgotten.