Cloey Criggall was the kind of girl whose presence you felt before she even spoke. She had a way of walking into a room and shifting the energy: softening it, brightening it, filling it with something warm and unmistakably her. There was nothing forced or performative about her light; it was simply who she was. People gravitated toward her because she made them feel safe, welcomed, understood. It was as if she carried this quiet magic that wrapped around you the second she smiled. Her life was full of color, real color. She laughed with her whole face, loved with her whole heart, and fought through her own battles with a spirit stronger than anyone ever truly realized.

She accomplished her dreams, she just doesn't get to live it. She had so much life ahead of her, so many paths she hadn't gotten to explore yet, and that's part of what makes her loss so sharp. She was supposed to have years, decades; of moments that the world never got to see. But even in her short time here, Cloey managed to do what some people never accomplish in a lifetime: she changed people. She left marks, deep, permanent ones, on the hearts around her. The people who loved her didn't just love a daughter, a sister, a friend; they loved a soul who was one of a kind. She had a softness, but also a spark. She was gentle, yet powerful in the way she influenced every life she crossed.

Her passing was sudden, cruelly unexpected, and it shattered the world of those who held her closest. Her passing wasn't just a loss, it was a fracture. A moment that divided life into "before" and "after." The kind of hurt that doesn't fade so much as it becomes something you learn to carry. The grief isn't just sadness, it's shock, disbelief, and an ache that settles into the bones. It is waking up every morning hoping it was a nightmare, and going to sleep hoping for a dream where she's still here. It's feeling the silence where her voice used to be. It's seeing her siblings and knowing a part of their innocence was taken from them far too soon.

And yet…she still lives in the most real ways. She lives in the stories people tell. She lives in the smiles she shared with so many. She lives in the moments that were shaped by her presence and even in the ones shaped by the pain of losing her. She lives in her family who carry her with them in everything they do.

Cloey was an angel long before she left this world. Cloey wasn't just loved. She was treasured. She was a gift that the world didn't get to keep long enough, but one that will never be forgotten. Her life mattered, deeply. Her death broke hearts, but her memory continues to hold them together. And now she rests not in darkness, but in a kind of peace we can only hope is as bright as she was.