Kaylem’s Love: Infant Loss and Stillbirth Memorial

A Letter from Kaylem’s Parents

Dear friends,

Thank you so much for your interest in supporting the creation of Colorado’s first ever public Infant Loss and Stillbirth memorial & rock garden. We want to share a bit about why this project is so important to us and our community.

Our first child, Kaylem James Gentile, was born on Easter Sunday of 2024. While we were surprised that he was born so early, we were elated that he was here and seemingly healthy and strong. After a sudden turn of events, a short three days later he died in our arms.

There are no words that can truly hold what that does to a parent. The silence that follows. The way the world keeps moving while yours feels like it has stopped entirely. The love that has nowhere to go. After Kaylem died, like the majority of infant loss parents, we chose to cremate him. And with that choice came something we hadn’t anticipated—there was no place to go to visit him. No physical space that held him. No place to sit with him on his birthday, or to bring our grief on the days it felt too heavy to carry alone.

In the early months of our grief, we took a cross-country trip in his honor. Along the way, we began to notice painted rocks left in different places—markers of love for people who had passed. Each one felt like a whisper: you are not alone.

We started leaving painted rocks for Kaylem everywhere we went. We were desperate for something to do, somewhere to put our love, and this gave us that outlet. It felt like we were leaving little pieces of him across the world. Like he had a trail, even though he wasn’t here to leave it himself. When we came home, we chose a small place in a public park and began leaving rocks for him there. Over time, that space grew. We would visit and find that others had come—other families, other grieving hearts—leaving rocks for their babies too.

It became something sacred.

A place where we could go to be with Kaylem and gather in his honor.
A place where our love for him was visible.
A place where grief was shared. People began making their own pilgrimages to that space. It became not just ours, but a home for a community that so often has nowhere to go.

About a year later, we arrived one day to find a letter posted: everything had to be removed. It was a violation of leave-no-trace policy. We understood. And still—we were devastated. Because when you lose a child, you lose so much more than people realize. And that space… it was one of the only places in the world where we felt like we could go be with him. Losing it felt like losing a piece of him all over again.

In the wake of that loss, something became clear to us: Our community has a glaring need for a place. A real place. A permanent place. A place where parents and grandparents can come on birthdays and holidays and anniversaries.
A place where siblings can sit and feel close to their brother or sister.
A place where grief is not invisible.
A place where love has somewhere to land. As we began researching, we were shocked to discover that there is no dedicated, publicly accessible infant loss and stillbirth memorial anywhere in the central United States. And yet—this kind of loss is heartbreakingly common. When we began sharing this vision with other families in the infant loss community, the response was immediate and deeply emotional. Again and again, we heard the same thing:

We need this.
This would mean everything to our family.

This memorial garden is not just about us.
It is about thousands of families who carry a love that the world cannot see.

It is about creating a space where that love becomes visible.
Where remembrance is honored.
Where no one has to grieve alone. With your support, we are creating an Infant Loss and Stillbirth Memorial & Rock Garden—a permanent, public space where families can honor their babies, connect with them, and find community in one another. A place where hand painted rocks can be left—not in fear of removal, but as a lasting expression of love.
A place where stories can live.
A place where babies are remembered, always.

If this speaks to your heart, we invite you to be part of creating it.

Not just for Kaylem.
But for every baby who is deeply loved and is deeply missed.

With gratitude,
Brandilyn (Kaylem’s mom) & Alex (Kaylem’s dad)