When Sloan died, one of the first things I could form into a sentence and actually say the next day, was “He didn’t even get to be anyone.”
I had hardly slept. I had laid in bed all night staring at the ceiling thinking about how unfinished his life was. I was in shock, I was angry, I was resentful.
I didn’t know that while I was busy thinking these things, tossing and turning, Sloan was making his way around the world, his story had been shared millions of times, read by millions of people. It was in the news media, magazines, on television, shared even by celebrities. In less than 24hrs, Sloan had impacted the world. His story had already begun to influence parents everywhere, helping them better cherish every moment, reminding them to pay more attention to sleep safety, making them more aware of the danger of SIDS.
We would soon realize that people in hundreds of countries were crying with us through my words, wrapping their arms around us from afar, falling in love with Sloan, mourning his loss as their own, and making immediate changes that would save their own babies.
It’s been over a year now, and I still receive messages from people daily telling me these things. His life and death instilled purpose in me as well, I knew I needed to keep sharing his story, to continue being transparent and open with our grief so that others could learn, relate, change, save, and respect. Sloan’s purpose felt so robbed from him in those initial hours, but it is so clear now that he wasn’t robbed of it at all. He was a satellite, a catalyst. His purpose was to broadcast far and wide, exactly what people needed to be reminded of.
He wasn’t robbed of purpose, he was purpose.