Not every story is told in its entirety, and not every battle is one the world can see. But Kimberly was never just her struggle—she was love, she was light, she was a soul too beautiful to be defined by anything less than the kindness she carried in her heart.

She had brown hair that framed a face full of warmth, and a smile that could turn even the hardest days into something softer. When she laughed, you felt it—it had a way of staying with you, the kind of sound you hear long after the moment is gone. She loved deeply, gave freely, and held on tight to the people she cared about, even when life tried to pull her away.

Her parents would give anything to go back, to sit with her again, to watch her smile, to remind her that she was always enough. That her love, her presence, her—was never lessened by the weight she carried.

She should still be here. Her laughter should still be filling rooms, her love should still be wrapping around the people who needed her most. But love like hers doesn’t fade. It lingers. It stays in the memories that refuse to disappear, in the hearts that will never stop holding her close.

Kimberly, you were never just your struggle. You were a light, a presence, a force of love in this world. And you always will be.