A lot of things change in 23 months. In that time, I've been married, bought a house and adopted a dog with my wonderful wife. My beloved UB Bulls football team has leapt into prominence under Turner Gill. We watched some huge auto companies crumble, kept an eye out for change on the waterfront and elected a new president.

We also lived through the life of a child in its entirety.

By now, you've read, heard or watched the story of toddler Izaiah White, the Buffalo boy who suffered an allergic reaction to medicine, was rushed to the hospital by his father and given more time on Earth by local police officers who revived him. Those extra days allowed his family to give him a second birthday party, and a few more days with their beloved son before he died early May 17.

Despite the sad nature of the story, it's fair for you to be wondering how this made its way into a normally-sports-based column. In Gene Warner's wonderful account of Izaiah's life in the May 21 edition of The Buffalo News, it details some of the things the 23-month old loved to do. He watched "Spongebob," chased his sister and danced to the goofy "Let's Go Bills" rap we play -- and I write -- on The Howard Simon Show.

Early on the morning of May 21, my boss Andy called and told me to read the whole story. It was already one of those mornings where I wonder what in the world I was doing awake at 5 a.m. We all have them, regardless of how much we love our jobs -- it's a very human condition.

Well, the story of Izaiah was a tough one to read, and when I flipped to the second page to see that this little kid loved something I did, I was stunned. I can tell you it brought me to tears several times in the next few hours and days. I emailed Gene, and he told me that Izaiah's father, Chauncey, is a big listener of our station. He even asked Gene to "say hello to Sully."

I'm going to try to get in touch with Chauncey and the White family, but I'm not sure exactly what to say, other than one article in a newspaper about their son's brief-but-brilliant life touched me in a way precious few others do.

Growing up, many of our fathers and mothers taught us to do everything well, because you never know who's watching -- or listening. It carries the tone that "someone may be out there who can help you improve." Well, chalk another one up for parents. Something I've done 16 or 17 times a year about the football team I grew up watching and now cover had a cute little kid dancing around his living room, putting another of a million smiles on his parents' faces.

Thanks for reading all of this. It's been a big deal for me since it happened, and will continue to live in my mind. There have been several moments in the last few weeks where I've been motivated to give the extra effort that is usually so easy to leave behind. If Izaiah's was able to make such a stunning impression on me, I wonder what indelible images he left on those who were around him on a daily basis.

So, understand that I'm not trying to grandstand when I say that I'll be praying for the White family, and believing Izaiah is doing just fine where he is now.

And next time I'm complaining about something inane, frustrated by a double-shift, or just not being the person I want to be, please remind me of Izaiah. I promise I'll leave everything I have "on the floor."

Read Gene Warner's account of Izaiah's last days here.

Email: nick@wgr550.com