Twenty Years of Love

Remembering Talon Antoine Breaux

Twenty years ago, our lives were forever changed by a little boy with the bluest eyes, the softest blond hair, and a smile that could light up a room. His name was Talon Antoine — our only son. Though his time with us was painfully short, the imprint he left on our hearts will last for all eternity.

Talon lived his entire life in the NICU, surrounded by beeping monitors, soft light, and the quiet hum of hope and prayer. He never came home, but every moment with him was sacred ground. Even there — wrapped in wires and blankets — his spirit radiated joy. He smiled, often. He smiled when he heard our voices, as if he already knew us from Heaven’s side and recognized the ones God had chosen to be his parents. There was something holy in the way he listened — the way his tiny eyes seemed to hold wisdom beyond his days on earth.

A Life That Taught Us How to Love

In the stillness beside his isolete, I learned what it meant to love without measure. Love that is not dependent on years or milestones, but on presence — on the holy ache of giving your heart to someone who may not stay.

In those early days, when I wasn’t yet mature in my faith or understanding, I thought it was so final. The silence after he was gone felt like the end of everything. I was so proud that you were the boy who would carry the Breaux name — the one who would make your daddy so proud. We dreamed of baseball games, father-son talks, and generations that would come from your name. But we had to let that dream go and entrust you back to the Father — the One who gives these beautiful gifts and, in His mercy, receives them back again.

As the years passed, God revealed something far deeper — the magnitude of one tiny little soul and what that baby can do to an entire family.

Talon’s brief life changed us forever. He became the doorway through which God taught us the mystery of love that doesn’t end, the kind of love that reaches beyond time and space. His life was short, but his impact eternal.

He never spoke a word, but his life told a story: one of beauty in suffering, joy in surrender, and hope that does not die. He reminded us that Heaven is closer than we think — that it’s not so far away when someone you love lives there.

The Weight and Wonder of Remembering

Two decades later, the ache of missing him still finds its way into ordinary days — in the blue of the sky, the sound of laughter, the moments that should have been. But so does the wonder. Because Talon is not gone; he has simply gone before us.

Each October, as the world speaks of infant loss and remembrance, I speak his name aloud. I remember the sound of the NICU, the softness of his skin, the way he responded to our voices, and the peace that came when we whispered prayers over him. I let myself feel it all — the sorrow and the sweetness — because both are sacred.

A Mother’s Heart Never Forgets

Grief changes over time, but love does not. It matures. It stretches. It finds new ways to live. Twenty years later, I still look for Talon — in the way sunlight pours through the window, in the unexpected moments of grace, in the people God has allowed me to comfort through Red Bird Ministries. His legacy is alive in every heart that has been healed through the love he first taught us to give.

Talon’s life reminds me that Heaven holds the promise of reunion — that the distance between our hearts is only temporary. Until then, I carry his light in mine.

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.” — Jeremiah 1:5

💙 Forever loved. Forever missed. Forever our son — Talon Antoine.

A Prayer for Parents Who Had to Let Go Too Soon

Heavenly Father,
You are the Giver of every good and perfect gift.
We thank You for the children You have entrusted to our care —
even when their time with us is brief.

Hold close every parent who stands in the empty space between love and loss,
who must let go of dreams too soon,
and who now waits with longing for reunion in Your presence.

Teach us to see that no life is ever too small to bear eternal fruit.
Let the memory of our children become a light that leads others to You.
Help us entrust them back into Your arms —
knowing they are never lost, only held.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.