So I didn't really pay attention to last season's American Idol. At all.

I watched a couple of the beginning episodes of ridiculousness and that was all. I normally am either glued to a season of AI or do not care whatsoever. It all depends on if I connect with any of the contestants or not.

My family on the other hand avidly watches AI every season and picks favorites and votes and the whole nine yards. I've never been that involved.

I noticed David Cook in the beginning only because he had that edgy look I find appealing and he was from Tulsa, which is where my aunt lives. Other than that, I didn't really have a strong feeling for any of the contestants. I didn't get attached to any of them.

And then, on Sunday, April 13th, my grandmother had to be rushed to the hospital with congestive heart failure. She needed to have fluids drained from her lungs. A couple days in the hospital. Drain the fluids and she'd be home by Tuesday night. Everything would be fine. So I went home Sunday night, planning to visit my grandma Monday evening when I got off work.

I never finished my shift on Monday. My stepmom called my work at about noon and told me I needed to get to the hospital. The fluids weren't draining how they were supposed to be. My grandmother's lungs were filling with fluid and crushing her heart. And now her one kidney that had not been removed when she was diagnosed with kidney cancer was failing. This was it.

There is really nothing tragic about this story. My grandmother was 85. She had lived a full lifetime. I got to spend 24 years of my life with her on this earth. That's a lot more than some people get with their grandparents. I am thoroughly blessed to have been given that much time with her. She was my only grandparent. My mom's mom died when I was four months old and her dad left the family when my mom was only six. My grandfather had passed ten years before I was born and my grandmother's second husband never liked being a surrogate grandfather. So for me, my grandmother was the be all end all. And in the last five years, I had pulled away from her. I had stopped calling. I only visited maybe once every four or five months. I knew this day would come. I thought by pulling myself away it would make things easier. I was wrong. It makes it harder. Because now I have the guilt of not spending every moment I could with my grandmother. And even though I was by her side that whole entire week, it still didn't make up for the visits I didn't make and the calls I didn't dial.

By Tuesday night, she was incoherent and on a morphine drip. My dad and I sat in the hospital room with the TV on, trying to drown the sound of the respirator out. American Idol was on. It was Mariah Carey week. I remember watching the performances. I remember staring at the TV. I cannot tell you any song that was performed or who did well or what the judges said. I only remember one thing about the show that night. And that was David's performance of "Always Be My Baby." I don't know what it was about it. Actually, yes I do. It was his voice. I can't think of another time in my life when a male singer has affected me the way David did that night. For all of the minute he was performing, I was lost in a song. I was lost in his voice. In a moment when I felt like a part of me was dying (which essentially is what was happening), I found a little amount of joy in a simple song. When something of that magnitude is happening in your life, you feel as if you will never be able to find joy in little simple pleasures ever again. For one minute, I knew that even though my grandmother wouldn't be here physically, I would be able to continue on and I would be okay. Maybe I was just vunerable to find an escape that night. I don't know. But I do know I am in debt to David Cook for that small moment of clarity I had that night. It's like when you out with friends after something tragic has happened in your life and one of your friends does something to make you genuinely laugh. That first laugh after thinking for ages you will never be happy again is a beautiful and mind blowing thing. And you thank God for that friend. Well, for me that night, in that hospital room, David's performance was like that. Truly a gift. And that's essentially what music is all about.

I thought about David's performance the rest of that week. The song was stuck in my head. As annoying as having a song stuck in your head can be, it was a welcome release in my mind that was nothing but blankness and darkness. My grandmother was moved to her home on Wednesday. On Friday, April 18th, two days before my 24th birthday, she passed away.

After that, I watched American Idol every week. When it got down to the two Davids, I thought either deserved it, but I wanted David Cook to win, just because of what he had done for me, and I know what he has done for many other people out there. And when he did win, I cried right along with him.

So, that's why I'm here. Even though I've never met David, he is someone who helped me get through a very hard time in my life, albeit in a very small way. So the least I can do is support him in his journey. Thank you David.

Keeley