She is a child who confounds any notion I have of strength. Just when I think I’ve seen her grandest statement of perseverance, she proves me wrong – and nothing makes me happier. She attacked her first day in Orlando with Herculean strength. Nothing could slow her down. It was a day chalk full of events. Her answer to each: next! It was a chore to keep up with her.

As we walked the corridors of CHLA, we were greeted by a couple of nurses and technicians. Jeanette and I said hello and stepped into the elevator on our way to the cafeteria while Jordan underwent an MRI. “It’s really sad that we recognize all these people,” I said. “No. It’s sad that they recognize us,” Jeanette replied.She is right. We are back at CHLA and it’s all become too familiar.

You know you love the girl when you can close your eyes and picture her, riding belted in the car with a brimming grin and a chatty verse. You know you’re smitten when you can imagine her vivid blue eyes smiling in a landscape of noise and all you can do is sigh. When the sound of her giggle moves you to lower your head and grin, you’re hexed.Her eyes gush with life.

The journey did not begin with cancer. It did not begin with tumors or with headaches or with stealthy genetic malfunctions waiting to emerge. In truth, its origins reach further back than the birth of my daughter. The journey began some 89 years ago, when a country girl named June first greeted the world with strong lungs and a cry of perseverance.She was the youngest of three sisters who she would outlive by more than 20 years.

She is on her third pair of pajamas for the day, leading me to think she is the spawn of Hugh Hefner. She seems to have pjs for every hour, every occasion and every mood-swing.She walks pidgeon-footed onto the patio, a crooked smile broadening onto a bright face. Each step is calculated, like the careful foot to foot of a tight-rope walker. The nerves are coming back in her legs, but her reflexes are still diminished.