CF Spotlight: Remembering Lariah
- kiri136
- Jun 1
- 2 min read
On November 15, 2018, Kelli and I walked into the ICU at Children’s Hospital and met a girl who would forever change our lives. Her name was Lariah.
She was very sick that day, and the doctors weren’t sure how much time she had left. We brought her a jewelry-making kit and spent about an hour with her — it didn’t take long to fall in love with her. She was bright, curious, and had the kind of quiet strength that leaves an impression. We left her room that day already planning our next visit.
By the end of November, Lariah had stabilized enough to be moved to a regular hospital room. From that point on, she became a part of our lives — and a huge part of our hearts. Between November 15 and December 27, we visited her five times. We painted nails, played games, and just enjoyed each other's company. She wasn’t just a patient — she was our friend.
Lariah went home for a little while after that winter, but in April 2019, she was back in the hospital. We came to visit again, and I will never forget her laughter as we played with a little wind-up kangaroo, watching it jump off the hospital tray over and over again. Her giggles filled the room and reminded us why Blue Caboose exists — to bring joy in the middle of hard things.
In May, she celebrated her 12th birthday. We marked the day by doing a three-part painting together — a shared piece of art that Kelli and I still have hanging on our walls today.
Over the fall, her hospital stays became more frequent, and so did our visits. That Christmas, she told us all she wanted was a snow globe. We found one with a train and a beautiful Christmas scene and delivered it to her room during our annual CF Parent Holiday Party. It was one of the last gifts we would give her.
Lariah gained her wings on January 4, 2020.
Losing her shattered Blue Caboose. She was part of our heart, part of our why. We were incredibly honored to spend her last year loving on her, making her laugh, and helping her create memories. Her father gave us the gift of knowing her — and for that, we are forever grateful.
Lariah would have turned 18 last week. She should be walking across a stage in cap and gown, celebrating with her family and dreaming about the future. I’m heartbroken that she didn’t get those moments, but I’m so thankful I got to spend the moments she did have — laughing, painting, playing, and simply being present with her.
At Blue Caboose, we carry Lariah with us every day. Her story fuels our mission, her memory guides our hearts, and her light continues to shine through the love we pour into every child and family we serve.
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