New Photos Of Chris Cornell’s Children With Their Uncle Are Adorable


Vicky Cornell has posted the following on Twitter.

She wrote on Instagram, “Dear Nick,

Thank you for being there from Day 1. For putting our children first, for giving them every ounce of yourself. For being our best friend, filling in for our absence when we were away on tours and most of all, thank you for being there now.

Whether it’s playing ball, taking the kids to sports events or theme parks, surprise visits on birthdays or if C is scared in the ER, you are always there – you have never let C, Lily or Toni down. Your priority was always family. Everyone always saw and admired how devoted you were to our children.

In these dark days you have been a pillar of strength for us and I’m grateful for you every day and I know you are giving Chris some peace, knowing how much you love our babies and how much you love me.
Thank you for loving us so very much.

Happy Birthday! I love you!


Chris Cornell’s widow Vicky Cornell discussed his death in a new People Magazine article. Below is an excerpt.

Inside Vicky Cornell’s newly renovated Manhattan townhouse, a large rug sits rolled and wrapped in thick plastic on the floor by her kitchen island. Opening it is part of a to-do list that she just can’t bring herself to tackle. It was one of the last things her husband, Chris, touched. “The Wednesday before he left, he looked at it and said this was it, this was the one,” she says, going over the last days she spent with the rock star and their two kids, Toni, 12, and Chris, 11, selecting furnishings for their new home.

Sitting at her dining room table and looking around the all-white room, she grapples with how drastically life has changed. “He was so excited,” she recalls. “I’m getting messages like, ‘Your furniture is ready to be delivered.’ But now it’s like, for what?”

Grief is crushing, and grief can be mundane. Questions large and small bedevil a widow every day: How to look at the things left behind and not come undone. How to ease the brutality of loss for kids cut loose from an anchor. Why a loving husband of 13 years can’t simply walk back through the door and put things right.