I want to share a few words about Ashleigh, because she was never fully bound to this world in the way most people are. She moved through life with unmistakable confidence and a gravity you could feel—like she already knew something the rest of us were still learning.

She lived in conversation with the unseen. Attuned to symbols, thresholds, and quiet truths, she understood that reality has layers, and she walked comfortably between them. Our home became an extension of that knowing—a place shaped by intuition, ritual, and a sense that nothing here is accidental.

She carried a private sorrow beneath her strength—the knowing that she wouldn’t witness all of Penny’s becoming. But even that grief felt purposeful, as if it sharpened her awareness rather than dimmed it. She loved with urgency and intention, like someone aware of the shape of time.

Yesterday morning, December 14, 2025, her mortal form—blood, bone, and temporary matter—finally set itself down after years of being pushed beyond its limits. That body was exhausted. What moved through it was not.

I feel her with me now. I speak to her, and the conversation continues. It feels less like she is gone and more like she has stepped behind a veil she had already been touching for some time. She could no longer protect our family with her physical presence, so she shifted into a wider role—one without borders. I believe she now keeps watch from everywhere at once, guarding not just us, but all who were drawn into her orbit. 

Thank you for loving me unconditionally and blessing us with part of you to live on. Trusting me to help guide her, teach her, and share your memory with her for as long as I live. I will always love you, and that love will only grow stronger. Thank you for giving me your all. Your husband, partner, and twin flame. I carry your light with me now.

Wes