Leah

Leah is many things; a daughter, sister and best friend.  She is a loving granddaughter and the annoying little cousin.  She is my Lou-Lou Belle, her daddy's Little Rose, Doodlebug to her older brothers and Yee-ah to her little brother.

Leah is a gymnast who can no longer train, an above average student who can barely make it to school, Leah is a patient who baffles her doctors.

She is sweet, quirky, kindhearted, quick to love and slow to anger.  

Leah loves having her back tickled, a good cuddle, great books and girly movies.  Her favourite colour is gold but also loves anything pink or purple.

She hates needles, bees, soup, applesauce and mushrooms.

Leah is my baking helper, a great swimmer and a trampoline fanatic.  Her side of the bedroom is never clean, her bed is filled with favourite toys and possessions, her desk is covered with drawings, colouring books and search a word puzzles.

She loves to wear dresses, but also enjoys rough and tumble, she has holes in the knees of most of her tights, leggings and pants.

Leah plays hard when she can and mourns for it when she can't.


Leah has an infectious giggle, a quick laugh and a silent cry that can break my heart.


In all things she is brave and strong, but she is also only 8 and is scared of the unknown.


Leah is all of these things an so much more.  But in some ways, over the last couple of years, she is less.  Her smile is not always so quick, she is forgetful, confused, so easily fatigued and therefore not as engaged in her own life.  And while she doesn't complain, she is missing so much of what it means to be a normal child, her world is shrinking and her experiences are being limited.


My greatest wish is the Mayo Clinic will find that magic answer for us, that when we leave, we will take with us the knowledge that will enable her to be a normal little girl again while she still is a little girl; time passes so quickly, and it is something she will never get back.