Ben and Adam are our miracle babies. When I was 24 and Madison was only weeks old, I started Chemo to treat Lymphoma. I was so scared we wouldn't be able to have any more children. I felt so sick when pregnant with them that I went for an ultra sound early on - Twins! Two babies to add to our family. Ben and Adam came into the world as buddies and the babies Madison naturally wanted to protect. That point in our lives was crazy. 2 babies, a 2 1/2 year old; so crazy that, that time in my life was a blur as well. But I knew even then, how incredibly lucky we were to have this life. 

Asthma has been a part of our lives everyday from about the time the boys turned 6 months old. Both boys have asthma and food allergies. I carried medications and food to every event we had, we were over prepared. Madison knew her little brothers' allergies and would watch what they ate and who gave them what food at family functions. We knew that fall was the worst season for Ben in terms of his asthma. He had difficulty with the change of season, November being particularly tough on him. We went to the asthma doctor numerous times the Fall of 2013 to find the meds that would work best for him. It never stopped him from living. He always made the best of life, licking batter off the spoon when we made hundreds of Christmas cookies or jumping around in the snow on those cold bus stop mornings. 

Ben was someone that could make you smile when you didn't want to. You couldn't stay mad at him because even when you were trying to yell at him, he would start to laugh and you would forget why you were mad in the first place. Ben made us stop and look around. 

Ben had a way of putting things. He made you think all of his ideas were yours and that they were all great ideas. 

Ben: "Mom, mom, do you know what would be good for my birthday?"
Me: "What Buddy?"
Ben: "What are those tickets that let you go to every Red Sox game?"
Me: "Season's tickets Ben, those are called seasons tickets."
Ben: "Yeah, seasons tickets, I want seasons tickets to the Red Sox, going to every game would be lucky, right mom?"
Me: "Yes Ben, that would be very lucky."

Everything was amazing, everything was lucky, and everything was wondrous. Ben looked at the world in a way no one else I know does. For Ben, everyday was a new day, everyday was a day to celebrate, and everyday was full of joy for him.

Ben liked to talk. He talked nonstop. He didn't have an inner monologue; he just had a running monologue. That was one of the most wonderful things about Ben. You knew what he was thinking, always. Ben would sit on the stairs as I ran on the treadmill in the basement, yelling over the sound of my feet and the machine. Between breaths I would answer his questions and listen to his stories. Before he died he had started going through his baseball cards, trying to organize them and get them all in protective covers. One of my last runs with him talking to me, he was asking how many baseball teams there were, and telling me about his cards and the players. He was so excited to share his hard work with his father, he couldn't wait for Jeff to come home.

He would sit on his heating vent with his Legos or his Captain Underpants books or his drawings. Ben would talk and tell you about what he thought was "Lucky" or "That's good, right mom?" Ben had a wonderful sense of humor and a sense of self most adults are not blessed with. He loved taking selfies and laughing at himself.  Benjamin loved being in pictures, taking pictures, looking at pictures in albums, looking at pictures on the phone after I took them. Ben took tons of pictures on his DS. They were blurry and out of focus. They were dark and very unflattering, but Ben didn't care. He loved looking at them. He loved drawing mustaches on them; he loved making slideshows and adding music. 

Benjamin was one of the happiest, sweetest, most genuine people I have had the honor of knowing. Benjamin loved everyone he knew, he always had a loving word, something kind to say. Benjamin loved every single day. He loved the start of a new day, he loved the promise it held, he started each day with a huge smile and some crazy song at the top of his lungs in the shower. Ben made sure he lived everyday. He made sure he was fully invested in everything he did. He made sure that he enjoyed every minute of everyday. Imagine just for a moment living like that. 

Benjamin loved the beach. The beach was his favorite place. He loved to "surf" on the boogie boards, jump in the end of the waves and build sand castles. Ben spent most of his time on the beach building and exploring. He would spend hours digging holes to find crabs in hopes of bringing one home. He loved to find the clear jelly fish, that he would end up loving a little too much and get so mad when they eventually get torn in half or no longer swim because he carried them around all day. 

Ben died. Those words alone took months for me to say. Parents aren't meant to bury their children, they aren't meant to celebrate birthdays without them, they aren't meant to live and move on without them. Ben was incredible and I am so lucky that I got to hug him for almost 8 years.

Thank you for your support. We are blessed to have such a strong support system. 

Sincerely, 

Cristin and Jeff Buckley