From the moment he came into this world on July 26, 2014, Ulrich carried something extraordinary within him — a light so pure, so fierce, that even illness could never dim it.
From his earliest days, he showed everyone what true bravery looked like.
He faced battles no child should ever have to fight — chemotherapy, radiation, endless nights in hospital beds surrounded by machines and tubes — yet he met each one with that same gentle smile that could melt every nurse’s heart.
Every time the doctors walked in, he’d greet them not with fear, but with curiosity.
He wanted to understand what was happening inside his body.
He wanted to know why he had to stay in bed when he just wanted to go home and play Pokémon.
Because Ulrich loved Pokémon.
His determination to “catch them all” became more than a game — it became a reflection of his courage.
Each sticker on his chart, each bead on his bravery necklace, each day he made it through without tears — those were his victories.
And he caught them all: the moments of laughter in pain, the friendships made in the oncology ward, the quiet courage to face another sunrise even when his tiny body was tired.
There were good days, too.
Days when his energy returned, and his laughter echoed through the hospital hallways.
He would challenge nurses to guess his favorite character (it changed daily), and tell his mom, “When I grow up, I’m gonna make medicine that doesn’t make kids throw up.”
His parents held on to every one of those moments like treasures — because they knew how fragile time could be.
They watched him fight through chemotherapy rounds that left him too weak to stand.
They watched him endure radiation burns that no child should ever have to feel.
And yet, through it all, Ulrich’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
He’d tease his dad for snoring during hospital naps, or whisper to his mom, “It’s okay, Mommy. I’m not scared if you’re here.”