Elliot passed away suddenly on April 8th of 2025 due to drowning. He loved water and was so curious about the world. Elliot had severe Autism, and was unaware of the dangers of water or drowning. He eloped from his wagon on that crisp, early spring afternoon, and drowned in a pond just feet away. His death has changed our entire family and we miss him more than any words could convey. Elliot was born in the Winter of 2019 and with him, he brought the snow. It had been a mild winter and warm, and the day after his birth, snow softly fell from the beautiful January sky. Elliot came into this world with such force and urgency, and he kept that spirit all throughout his life. He was forever moving, finding, looking, curious as to his world. He loved music, dancing, running, and in fact never “walked” anywhere, but galloped or skipped and ran. He was a ball of perpetual energy and force, able to move at lighting speed. Elliot was not able to speak, although for a short time he could say “MaMa” and “Daddadada” in a distorted fashion, but it was one of the sweetest moments of my life, as his mother, to hear him say my name. Elliot also did not have receptive language and it was difficult for him to understand language. Although he was only 2 when he began therapies, he often gained and then lost skills. He worked so hard to communicate and one of his favorites was to ask for what he was wanting was to give a sweet open mouth kiss to your forehead. Next, if he did not get your attention he would take your hand a pull. And if that failed, a very exaggerated bite motion towards your arm or hand would surely get you up and moving to get him what he wanted. He was the most unique soul I have ever met in my journey through this life. He was beautiful not only physically, but his inner soul was covered in love and light. He could stare through you into your eyes and seemingly know you, and feel you on a deeper level than I believe the rest of us can understand. Elliot loved life, always exploring, going, wanting more swings, car rides, and jumping. He never rested, never stopped, even on his difficult days. He was resilient and strong, he was innocent and sweet, he was my “Cuddle Bunny” as I called him as he would burrow his legs behind me on the couch in the rare moments he took a break for rest. I will cherish those memories, gently caressing his forehead and moving his long slightly curly hair from his face. I will remember every inch of his beautiful body as I bathed and cared for him. The way his skinny legs bowed slightly inward, his full cheeks resembled those of a cherub, and his comically large toes, what we referred to as “Cartoon toes”. I remember giving him foot rubs to calm him, and just taking in every bit of him, as he was always in motion and any changes to hold him, I would take advantage of. When Elliot died, a version of me died as well. I recall the social worker asking about donation while I was sitting with Elliot’s body in the hospital. I was surprised to learn that even though he could not be an organ donor due to how he passed away, he was still able to donate tissue and bone. I did not hesitate to answer “yes”. If there was a way to pass on some of Elliot’s love for life to someone else, I wanted to do that, in his honor. Elliot was able to donate both tissue and bone, and for that I am truly grateful. Those pieces of who he was continue to help others live their best lives and move forward into love and light. Through acts of giving and kindness, his memory lives . We love you, our Beautiful Boy, Elliot Ross.