In February 2004, my wife took our oldest son, Elijah out to a pre-school activity and we planned to meet later for lunch. Anxious to seize some daddy time, I took the morning off and decided to spend some time with Ben, our youngest son. We grabbed a Klondike bar from the freezer, kicked back in my big, hunter-green La-Z-Boy and watched a Disney movie together. I remember thinking - "this is the life". I know that many of you know the feeling.

After a few minutes, I realized something wasn't right. Ben was unusually tired and became limp in my arms. As a parent, I knew that something was really wrong, and that I needed to get him to the doctor. I packed him up in my Jeep, and drove to the hospital. I called Jennifer and she rushed to meet us. At first, the medical staff didn't feel anything was wrong - other than a possible case of the flu. We insisted that he was perfectly fine just hours earlier and that they do a scan of his head. After days of "negotiating" with the hospital staff, we learned that our baby boy had a tumor growing in his brain and that he was critically ill. Ben was dying... more