Keith passed away on Friday. It's always hard to see things like that in writing. I don't know if I should be blogging about this, especially since the word "blogging" connotes something akin to regurgitating whatever has happened in your life, and no one likes to see their guts spewn all over the place. But I figured if I wrote something, more people would know, and it's better if more people know. Let's call this very very personal advocacy. And I'll take it down if it shouldn't be up.

For those of you who have no idea who Keith is, he is the son of my mom's best friend, Ms. Raychel. Ms. Raychel was blessed with 3 boys. (As a result, she now handles every situation, no matter how stressful, with grace, much like my Grandy. I never want 3 boys.) I've known Keith since I was three years old. We are the same age and we went to the same preschool and elementary school. According to my memory I was taken out of Springfield Academy, where I went to kindergarten, because Keith went to Wakefield Forest and Ms. Raychel said that it was a good school. (That's right, my elementary school's name was just a "field" away from my university's.) But that could have just been my mom trying to console me with the thought of having a friend at my new school since she was making me leave my best friend Sasha and my boyfriend, Travis Ashton, behind.

Keith had a genetic, degenerative, neuro-muscular disorder called Friedreich's Ataxia that started affecting him since we were 10. The disease essentially takes away a person's ability to control their body very slowly over time and involves a lot of other health complications. It has always been really hard watching him get progressively worse when I can vividly remember him being in a normal body when we were younger. Despite his physical issues, he and his brothers were still able to reign some chaos in our house, such as the time they decided it was more fun to throw darts into our ceiling and walls in the basement instead of aiming for the dart board. The holes are still there to this day – we've never puttied them. My memories of Keith extend way back into the murky memory of a small child. I saw the scariest movie ever with him, called Edward Scissorhands. I was only 3! – but then I felt like a wimp when Keith loved it. I also saw my first R-rated movie with Keith. It was Speed and was much less scary than Edward Scissorhands.

Keith was funny. He had a dry sense of humor and would always deliver his great one-liners with a straight face. Luckily for him, he knew that he would be missed and he will be. I will always feel his absence in my life, especially since his family has always been and will always be a part of mine. They're our family and I'm just lucky that my mom has such great taste in friends.

But what I hope, and what makes it hard for me to cry, is that I hope that wherever he is, he is running and dancing and cooking and swimming and driving. When I think of him doing all of these things, I can't help but smile, even though it's sad.

Check out www.curefa.org. It's a great organization his parents started. Mr. Ron, his stepdad, is the president so they literally work full time on this issue. They're awesome people – some of the best you will ever meet and they've dedicated their lives to helping others and to getting rid of this disease.

(Just a side note: Their good works do not just end with FA research. Ms. Raychel is my mother's personal volunteer interior decorator and without her we would have A) No kitchen table, B) A completely bare and/or ugly living room with no awesome elephant table and awesome comfortably couches (inspired by her awesomely comfortable couch I spent many years sleeping through Mardi Gras on), and C) No rooster sitting on our dining room table.)

My thoughts and love are with them.