09/03/2026
If you never had the chance to meet my son Bentley, I want you to know who he was.
Bentley was funny, goofy, incredibly smart, and one of the sweetest people you could ever meet. He had a wonderful sense of humor and could make people laugh so easily. He was polite, friendly, and genuinely kind to the people around him. He had a way of making people feel comfortable, and his smile and laughter could fill a room.
Bentley was curious about the world. He loved learning, especially about flags and different languages, and when something caught his interest, he wanted to know everything about it. His interests were wonderfully unique. He could spend time playing chess or UNO, getting lost in a video game or Pokémon, and then turn around and listen to his records, with Marty Robbins being one of his favorites.
But when I think about Bentley, the things he loved aren’t what I remember most. I remember the way he loved people.
He was incredibly thoughtful. One of the little things I will always hold onto is how, whenever he went to the store, he would make sure to get my favorite candy bar. It was such a simple gesture, but it showed me how much he paid attention. He remembered the little things that mattered to the people he loved.
He loved his pets, too, and he had such a sweet heart for them. He could be goofy and playful, but he was also thoughtful, affectionate, and incredibly loving.
There are so many pieces of Bentley that I wish I could put into words—the sound of his laugh, his personality, the way his mind worked, the little things he did that made him who he was. I wish everyone could have had the chance to know him the way I did.
For his laughter. His kindness. His curiosity. His goofy personality. His intelligence. His huge heart. I want people to know that Bentley was here. That he was loved deeply. That he made people laugh. That he mattered.
He was my son.
He was Bentley.
