A white screen stares back at me as I struggle to find the words for this next story. It's long overdue and I'm stuck, overwhelmed by my own emotion. I remember Kelly, a little girl I used to babysit for. She had the sweetest giggle and was the Queen of Silly. If I let myself, I can still see her, rolling around on the floor with her legs up in the air, laughing uncontrollably. We spent many afternoons together reading stories, eating popcorn and just making each other laugh. I was very close to her and her family. We were a big part of each others' lives. Sadly, however, Kelly was plagued with numerous and very serious medical problems. We lost Kelly when she was only 10. I was a teen in turmoil trying to make sense of a world that, to me, was already off kilter. Seeing Kelly's bright smile in a portrait placed atop her little casket forever changed my life. I learned that life isn't fair and that some very terrible things can happen to some very good people. I learned that sickness and death have no mercy, not even for children. Words like this seem unproductive, but in my world, it's the harsh reality of an unfair truth. That having been said, I have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for people afflicted with disease, as well as their families and caretakers whose lives are affected on a daily basis by disease and illness. It takes a lot of courage and strength just to keep on keeping on...to find joy and happiness in life's little wonders and in the smallest of accomplishments. Perhaps this is why I was drawn to Rick Jewell and his daughter, Rylee.