One year can change your life.

One year. 365 days. 52 weeks. 12 months. 4 seasons. Howevermany new moons. Millions of moments.

One year ago, Heidi Jean was bordering on 6 weeks old. Mom and Dad were getting used to spending our evenings bouncing on the yoga ball. Our biggest problems were a gassy baby, difficulty breastfeeding, and lack of sleep.

One year ago.

And in the blink of an eye everything changed. A word that had only been uttered in our family when talking about Great Aunts and distant cousins was now directed at my not-even-two-year-old nephew. Cancer. Not just any cancer. Stage IV Neuroblastoma (read up, it's not pretty).

The next few months were spent taking over childcare for Triston, Seth, and Kaileigh, taking trips to Madison to see Laura and Keagen, and praying. The bad news seemed to be never ending. No sooner were Laura and Keagen home than an infection cropped up and they were heading back down to the hospital. The one with lights that were shaped like dragonflies. When they were home, home health was there with IV poles and liquid feedings and enough needles to fill tens of sharps containers.

It seemed the only good news we had was on surgery day. The surgery went so much faster than we anticipated. In fact, we were all down in the hospital cafeteria when Laura's phone rang. He was out of surgery, we needed to make sure that we were back in the room soon so the surgeon could come and brief us on how it had gone. When he came in, we all held our breaths in anticipation. He made it sound so good, he got everything that he could see, made a large incision from one armpit across the tummy diagonally down. Lots of scraping and he'd gotten it. Everything that he could see.

His next scan showed cancer still remained. The stem cell transplant was his only hope. In the months in between the surgery and the stem cell transplant, Keagen became a Keagen we had only dreamt about. He was so happy, always laughing and giggling. Of course, he was also swollen nearly beyond recognition from the steroids. It's easy to tell what period that was when you look at the pictures. His hair had grown back in a dark brown instead of his light blond. And he always had a smile on his face.

Keagen had the chemo and then the stem cell transplant. Almost immediately he was back to his usual antics. Infections. Shock. Life in the I.C.U. And just when we thought he was turning the corner, it was over. I think some days that perhaps Keagen had to get well enough to say "daddy" and "ball" before he could leave us.

The heartbreak of losing a sweet 2 year, 5 month old nephew has lingered over the last 4 months. Stronger some days than others. And I can only imagine what my sister and her husband feel. The loss of a child, beyond comprehension. But all is not lost. The memories are still with us. Keagen is around us every day, watching over us. We have to believe that there is a reason why we were given Keagen for 2 years and 5 months. He has changed us all.