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That’s what friends do; they encourage you and support you in good times and bad. Robert is a true best friend. He would do anything for you. Maybe you should let him beat you in UNO the next time you play. He would like that, don’t you think?

I love when he holds your hand and sings “I Could Sing of Your Love Forever” to you. The friendship and love you two boys have will endure forever.

“A friend loves at all times” (Prov. 17:17).

July 15, 2005 (Ellicottville, NY—Hunter’s Haven Lodge: Hunter’s Hope Family and Medical Symposium)—Daddy was telling you all about his Alaskan bear hunt today. He loves sharing his hunting adventures with you. He’s a great storyteller, isn’t he? How about that telephone he bought not too long ago—the one that lets out animal sounds every time it rings? He thinks it’s the greatest thing. Silly Daddy.

All the Hunter’s Hope kids will be coming up to the lodge to visit. Your friends are great. They’re brave like you, Hunter. Very brave. What a blessing to be able to help all your buddies through Hunter’s Hope. It means a lot to the families.

Hunter, you’ve been doing so well lately. Except for the few trips we had to make to the hospital for a tube change and other minor things, you’ve been really good. In fact, when I saw you actually doing your own leg exercises the other day, opening and closing your legs all by yourself like a beautiful butterfly, I thought God was giving me a glimpse of your healing. I’m serious, Hunter, that’s what I thought. The more you grow, the more of heaven I see every day. Nothing will ever compare to watching you love life like you do. You are a taste of heaven. You really are.

I know how much you enjoy reading Mommy’s journals, so here’s a few more for you, brave one:

I Love…

… that you are so sensitive to other people’s feelings.

… that you are ticklish like Mommy, especially your feet.

… that you keep me on my toes.

… that you never complain.

… who God made you to be.

… when people ask me how you are doing.

… that you are a reminder of all that is good.

… that you are a good listener.

… when you wear sunglasses and a baseball hat.

… when you take real deep breaths.

… brushing your big boy teeth.

… your name—Hunter.

… praying for you.

… kissing you.

… watching you sleep.

… running my fingers through your hair.

… talking about you.

… being your mother.

… that God is in control of your life.

… that someday you and I will be in heaven with Jesus forever.

Chapter 13

August 5, 2005

On August 4, 2005, the limo had just arrived to pick us up for the Kenny Chesney–Gretchen Wilson concert. It was five o��clock and our friends were waiting in the kitchen while Jim and I finished getting ready. Kimmy was babysitting the girls, and Hunter was at my mom and dad’s house.

I wasn’t in a concert mood. The kids and I had just spent the last five nights at my parents’ house while attending Kingdom Bound, a huge four-day Christian music festival near Attica. After spending the last few days ride-hopping and concert-going with a bunch of kids, I was exhausted. I just wanted to stay home. I was also scheduled to tape a local television show the following morning, and I needed to prepare for it, so the girls and I had come home. Meanwhile, Hunter stayed at my parents’ because it was my mom’s night to take care of him.

While Jim finished getting ready upstairs, I was downstairs going over the bedtime routine with Kimmy. And then the phone rang.

“It’s your mom,” Kimmy said as she handed me the phone.

My mother and I talked to each other all the time, so I wasn’t surprised that she was calling. Unfortunately, that conversation was the beginning of the worst twenty-four hours of my entire life.

“Hello.”

“Jill, I don’t think Hunter’s acting like himself. I think something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s just so quiet.”

“How do his lungs sound? What’s his temperature?” I probed with the usual array of Hunter health questions.

“His lungs sound okay and his fever is… Jill, I