About Court

The beautiful soul behind 333 Wishes for a Cure.
More Than Her Diagnosis. More Than Her Battle. A Beautiful Life That Deserves to Be Remembered.

Some people leave a mark on this world that time could never erase. Courtney was one of those people.

Courtney was a daughter, a sister, a best friend, and a beautiful soul who meant so much to so many people. She had a personality that was impossible to forget, a heart full of love, and a presence that made even the most ordinary moments special.

She was funny, loving, strong-willed, sarcastic, and completely herself. She was the kind of person who could make you laugh when you didn't even feel like smiling, someone who could turn a simple conversation into a memory, and someone whose love and friendship stayed with you long after you said goodbye.

But behind her smile was a battle that many people could never fully understand.

Courtney was born on August 3, 2002, and from the very beginning of her life, she faced challenges that no child, teenager, or young adult should ever have to experience.

She was born with cystic fibrosis.

And although this disease would shape so much of her life, it never captured the entirety of who she was.

Before she was a patient, before she was a diagnosis, and before she was someone fighting a life-threatening illness, she was simply Courtney.

And that is the girl I want the world to know.

A Life With Cystic Fibrosis

Cystic fibrosis, often called CF, is a progressive genetic disease that primarily affects the lungs and digestive system. It causes thick, sticky mucus to build up in the body, leading to persistent lung infections, breathing difficulties, digestive problems, and other serious complications.

For many people, going to the doctor or spending time in the hospital is an occasional experience. For Courtney, hospitals, medications, breathing treatments, and medical appointments were part of life for as long as she could remember.

There was no taking a vacation from cystic fibrosis. No waking up one morning and deciding she didn't want to deal with it anymore.

It was there on birthdays, holidays, ordinary Tuesdays, and every moment in between.

While other children were growing up without having to think about their lungs, Courtney was learning how to manage a disease that required constant attention.

As she got older, the challenges didn't disappear. They became part of her teenage years and young adulthood, a time when she should have been able to focus on discovering herself, making memories, and dreaming about her future.

Instead, she also had to navigate treatments, hospital admissions, medical uncertainty, transplants, enzymes and the physical and emotional exhaustion of living with a serious chronic illness.

There were days filled with appointments, treatments, and difficult news. There were moments when plans had to be canceled and when simply feeling healthy enough to enjoy a normal day was something she couldn't take for granted.

She spent countless days inside hospital rooms while life continued outside those walls.

And that is one of the cruelest parts of cystic fibrosis. It doesn't just affect someone's physical health. It can steal their time, their freedom, their independence, and moments they should have been able to enjoy without a second thought.

But there was so much more to Courtney's life than hospital rooms and medical treatments.

She had a family who loved her, friendships that meant the world to her, and memories that had absolutely nothing to do with being sick.

She was never just a patient in a hospital bed.

She was a young woman with an entire personality, an entire story, and an entire lifetime of love inside her.

If you were lucky enough to know Courtney, you knew there was so much more to her than cystic fibrosis.

She had a sense of humor that could make even the hardest days feel a little lighter. She could be sarcastic, stubborn, hilarious, and unbelievably loving, sometimes all in the same conversation.

She wasn't someone who needed to do something extraordinary to make a moment memorable.

Sometimes it was the little things.

A funny comment. A look across the room. A conversation that went on for hours. A random adventure that became one of your favorite memories without you even realizing it.

She had a way of making the people around her feel comfortable enough to be themselves.

With Courtney, you didn't need everything to be perfect. You didn't need an elaborate plan or a special occasion.

Sometimes just being together was enough.

She was so much more than what people could see on the outside.

Behind her strength was a person who experienced the same emotions, hopes, fears, and dreams as anyone else her age.

She had good days and bad days. She had things that made her happy, things that frustrated her (and oh boy she would let you know lol), and things she looked forward to.

She deserved to be able to live those moments without constantly having to think about her health.

And despite everything she faced, she continued to leave people with memories filled with laughter and love.

When I remember Courtney, I remember her personality, her laugh, her love, and the girl who made so many ordinary days unforgettable.

A Friendship I Will Treasure Forever

To me, Courtney wasn't just a friend. She was family.

She was my person.

The person I could talk to about absolutely anything. The person I could laugh with over things that nobody else would find funny. The person who knew different versions of me and loved me through so many chapters of my life.

Our friendship wasn't built around big moments or expensive adventures. It was built around thousands of little memories that became priceless.

Our snowball coffee runs will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Something as simple as getting coffee together became one of those little traditions I will carry with me forever.

At the time, we didn't think about how meaningful those ordinary moments would become. We were just two best friends enjoying each other's company, talking about life, laughing, and making memories without even trying.

Now, those are the moments I wish I could relive.

One more coffee run.

One more conversation.

One more day of laughing over something completely ridiculous.

One more chance to tell her how much she meant to me.

Courtney was someone I always pictured being part of my future. When you have a friendship like ours, you don't imagine a world where that person isn't there.

You picture growing older together, sharing milestones, celebrating each other's accomplishments, and continuing to make memories for decades.

I never imagined that the memories we were making would eventually become the ones I would hold onto so tightly.

But if there is one thing I will always be grateful for, it is that I got to experience a friendship like ours.

I got to know Courtney beyond her illness. I got to see the funny, loving, beautiful person she was. I got to be part of her life, and she became such an important part of mine.

She was one of the greatest gifts life ever gave me.

The Strength Nobody Should Have to Find

People often describe individuals living with chronic illnesses as brave, strong, or inspiring.

And Courtney truly was all of those things.

But I think there is something important people sometimes forget.

Courtney didn't choose to have cystic fibrosis. She didn't choose the hospital stays, the treatments, the complications, or the uncertainty.

She was strong because life demanded a kind of strength from her that most people will never have to understand.

And she deserved so much more than having to be strong.

She deserved days without pain, nights without worry, and years filled with possibilities.

She deserved to make plans without having to wonder whether her health would allow her to follow through.

She deserved to be young and carefree.

She deserved to experience all the things that so many of us take for granted.

There were times when she was tired. Times when things were frustrating, overwhelming, and unfair.

She had every right to feel those things.

Being strong doesn't mean never being afraid. It doesn't mean smiling through every difficult moment or pretending everything is okay.

Sometimes strength is simply continuing through another day when your body and mind are exhausted.

Courtney's strength wasn't just in the medical battles she faced.

It was in the love she continued to give, the friendships she maintained, the memories she created, and the person she remained through everything.

But I never want her to be remembered only for how hard she fought.

Courtney was worthy of love, admiration, and remembrance simply because she was Courtney.

She didn't need to prove her strength to deserve any of those things.

Twenty-Four Years Was Never Enough

On August 30, 2026, just 27 days after celebrating her 24th birthday, Courtney passed away.

She was only 24 years old.

Twenty-four years of life, laughter, love, memories, and friendships.

Twenty-four years of being someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's best friend, and someone's entire world.

And twenty-four years will never feel like enough.

There were still so many things she deserved to experience.

More birthdays surrounded by the people who loved her.

More holidays.

More summers.

More late-night conversations.

More spontaneous adventures.

More ordinary mornings waking up with an entire day ahead of her.

More opportunities to fall in love with life, discover new things, and create memories she didn't even know were waiting for her.

She deserved to grow older.

She deserved a future.

She deserved time.

Losing Courtney meant losing all of the moments we thought we still had.

It meant realizing that the last time we did certain things together would truly be the last, even though we had no idea at the time.

It meant learning that the smallest memories could become the most precious.

A photograph becomes something you stare at a little longer.

An old conversation becomes something you read over and over.

A familiar place becomes a reminder of someone you would give anything to see again.

A coffee run becomes so much more than a coffee run.

And a friendship that once existed in everyday conversations and moments becomes something you learn to carry in your heart.

Her life was far too short, but the love she gave and the impact she made cannot be measured in years.

The Love She Left Behind

One of the most beautiful things about Courtney is that her story doesn't belong to just one person.

There are so many people who knew and loved different parts of her.

Her family knew her as the daughter and sister they watched grow from a little girl into a young woman.

Her friends knew her through laughter, adventures, conversations, and memories that only they could fully understand.

The nurses, doctors, and medical teams who cared for her throughout her life knew the challenges she faced and witnessed so much of her journey.

Each person carries different memories.

Different stories.

Different photographs.

Different moments that they wish they could experience just one more time.

Together, all of those memories tell the story of who Courtney truly was.

Not a diagnosis.

Not a medical chart.

Not a statistic.

A person who was deeply loved and whose absence is deeply felt.

There is something incredibly special about the way a person can continue to exist through the stories people tell about them.

Courtney lives on in every memory shared, every photograph saved, every inside joke remembered, and every moment someone hears her name and smiles.

She lives on in the people whose lives are better because she was part of them.

She lives on in the love that didn't disappear when she passed away.

Because love doesn't end when someone's life does.

It changes, and we learn how to carry it differently.

The Little Things That Will Always Be Courtney

There are certain things in life that will always remind me of Courtney.

Snowball coffees.

Pink sunsets.

The stars in the sky.

Winnie the Pooh and Piglet.

The little reminders that seem to appear when you need them most.

Sometimes the memories make me smile, and sometimes they make me cry.

Most of the time, they do both.

There is a bittersweet feeling that comes with remembering someone you love so deeply.

You want to remember every detail, but remembering also means feeling how much you miss them.

You want to look at the pictures, hear their voice, and revisit the memories, even when doing so makes your heart ache.

There are times when I still find myself thinking about what Courtney would say about something.

I can imagine the conversations we would have, the jokes she would make, and the way we would laugh about things that probably wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

And while those moments hurt, they are also a reminder of how lucky I was to know her.

I never want to forget the little things.

The sound of her laugh.

The way she made me feel.

The memories we shared.

The person she was when the world wasn't watching.

Because those little things are what made Courtney, Courtney.

And those are the things I want people to remember.

She Was So Much More Than Cystic Fibrosis

When someone passes away from a serious illness, it can become easy for their diagnosis to overshadow the rest of their story.

People remember the hospital stays, the treatments, the complications, and the heartbreaking ending.

But Courtney's life was not just about cystic fibrosis.

Her life was about the people she loved and the people who loved her.

It was about growing up, building friendships, making memories, laughing, being silly, experiencing happiness, and navigating all the emotions that come with being human.

It was about the ordinary moments that become extraordinary once we realize how precious they were.

She had an identity outside of being sick.

She was allowed to have bad days, to be frustrated, to be funny, to be stubborn, to be imperfect, and to be exactly who she was.

That is part of what made her so special.

Her story deserves to be told with all of those pieces included.

Not just the difficult parts.

Not just the heartbreaking parts.

But the beautiful ones, too.

The moments when she was happy.

The times she was laughing.

The friendships she built.

The love she shared.

The memories that will continue to mean so much to the people she left behind.

Cystic fibrosis may have been part of Courtney's life, but it will never be the only thing that defines her story.

Forever 24, Forever Loved

Courtney's story is one I wish had so many more chapters.

I wish she had been given the opportunity to experience everything life had waiting for her.

I wish there were more photographs to take, more memories to make, and more stories to tell.

I wish her family had more time with her.

I wish her friends had more years beside her.

And I wish the world had more time to know the person we were lucky enough to love.

But even though her life ended far too soon, the impact she left behind is something that will last forever.

Courtney was here.

She mattered.

She was loved beyond words.

She made people laugh, gave people memories, and became part of stories that will be told for generations.

She was a daughter.

A sister.

A friend.

My best friend.

And a beautiful, unforgettable soul.

I hope that anyone who visits this page leaves knowing something about Courtney beyond the disease she lived with.

I hope they see a young woman who deserved so much more time.

I hope they understand that behind every story about cystic fibrosis is a real person with a name, a family, friendships, dreams, and a life that matters.

And above everything else, I hope they remember her name.

Courtney.

A girl who was so much more than her illness.

A girl who was loved beyond measure.

A girl who will never, ever be forgotten.

In Loving Memory of Courtney

August 3, 2002 – August 30, 2026

24 beautiful years. A lifetime of memories. An eternity of love.

I'll find you in every lifetime, Court.