Remembering the Woman Behind Cheryl’s Law

As we continue working toward the next chapter of Cheryl’s Law, I wanted to share something a little more personal.

This photograph was taken on June 16, 2001. That’s my mom, Cheryl, playing the accordion during a private performance.

Long before her name became associated with a petition, legislation, hospitals, hearings, medical records, or any of the events that consumed the final months of her life, this was my mom.

She had a life. She had talents. She had people who loved her. She had stories, laughter, good days and bad days, and more than seven decades of memories that cannot be reduced to what happened during the final chapter of her life.

Over the past year, it has sometimes been difficult for me to separate my memories of Mom from everything that happened near the end of her life. There are hospital rooms, medical decisions, phone calls, meetings, paperwork, and questions that I am still trying to process.

Pictures like this remind me to look further back.

They remind me of the person I’m fighting for—and why this fight was never only about her.

Cheryl’s Law is about making sure patients and their families have a voice when they are at their most vulnerable. It is about learning from what happened to my family and working toward changes that can help ensure another family does not have to endure what mine did.

For now, while the Florida Legislature is out of session, I am continuing to give myself some much-needed time to grieve, heal, and remember my mother for all of her life—not only how it ended.

But I have not forgotten this cause.

I have not given up.

When the Legislature returns, we will continue our efforts to bring attention to these issues and advocate for meaningful change.

Until then, I am asking you to please continue signing and sharing this petition. Every signature strengthens our collective voice and demonstrates that this is not just one family’s story—it reflects issues that affect patients and families across Florida and throughout the United States.

The more people who stand with us now, the stronger our voice will be when it is time to return to Tallahassee.

And today, instead of sharing another document, another piece of medical history, or another part of our fight, I simply wanted to share Cheryl.

My mom.

Playing her accordion.

And a memory from a much happier time. ❤️