(Originally posted September 13, 2009)

Leah was four years and four months old when J.J. had his stroke. She'll never remember her Daddy being different than he is right now. She won't remember a time when his voice sounded smooth as velvet, a time when he could sing silly songs to her, a time when he told intricate bedtime stories.

I should feel sorry for her. That J.J. was amazing, and it's so not fair that this happened while she was so young.

But I don't. I'm actually a little jealous of her. She doesn't know what she's missing, so she doesn't miss it.

But I do.