We never get to pick the time where we are called or challenged. It shows up often while we occupied with something as simple as breathing or complex as the world we are in now. If we’re fortunate enough to have friends, family, savings, and a job, we find a way. 
If we're lucky.
I have known Valerie for 20 years, and like most, have always been drawn to her talent, intellect, and ability to find humor and understanding in most situations where many find obstacles and defeat. 
I first met Valerie in Los Angeles in the late 90’s. We were introduced by mutual friends, “I know a singer,” I was told. “She’s perfect for the stuff you are writing.”
After meeting Valerie it was clear: I was lucky if she sang a word over a note I ever wrote. And I’d be lucky to write a note under a lyric she ever wrote or sang. As often happens, demo tapes are exchanged (it was tapes in those days), other connections help find other musicians, chance meetings, etc. Everyone starts to bring in ideas, maybe some creative competition— what you thought was good maybe isn’t or becomes increasingly better because of the input you are getting now. The collaboration inspires you.
Valerie’s writing musically was similar to mine, with similar influences, but there was an element of bluegrass, roots, country that she had that complemented and validated much of what I was trying to do outside of bullshit rock music (as cool as bullshit rock music is…) There was a delightful melancholy and hopefulness in her voice, and at the same time a bravado and vulnerability that was reminiscent of powerful voices that had come before, but somehow fresh. It made anything I wrote worth maybe a listen if she sang over it, wrote lyrics to it, or possibly edited the thoughts and words I felt too strongly to throw away.  
To this day, I will play for someone a demo from a home 4-track recording and people will say, “my, God, that voice! Where is this woman?” “In Spruce Pine, NC," I will always respond. "Taking care of her mom.”
As I moved further away from being a musician— writing, playing, collaborating— and my life became filled with a career, commitments, and children, I would often find myself a little lost, and questioning the choices I made, and the people with whom I made them. Valerie would listen, intently, call back things I might have said over a decade ago as if I said it seconds ago, and after listening to my wallowing would interject at always the prefect place: “Bubby, are you writing anything? Are you playing?” The response was always the same from me, “there’s no time.” “It’s who you are,” she’d reply. No matter what was going on in her own life she would stop and listen to you like you were the only person on the planet. She made you forget there was a world outside of being in her company. 
We’re often attracted to people who are like ourselves: if we look at the people around us, who we choose, who chooses us, the are strong similarities along with the slight variances that make relationships, friendships, partners. Sometimes we connect with people who don’t even realize how much they affect us. But very few have been dealt, endured, fought, and survived what Valerie has. What would send most into the abyss, Valerie has persevered, come out the other side, smiling, signing, laughing. She has been tested, like all of us, but excelled more than most with less than many.
Those of you who know her like I do know the story; father murdered when she 5 years old; brother Stevie dead before he had a chance to live; her brother Billy, a gifted and respected bluegrass troubadour in his own right, revered and beloved by many, dead with brain cancer; her mother after surviving her own horrific obstacles, fighting COPD. Too long a list for a lifetime for anyone. Now Valerie finds herself fighting for her own life, her own battle, in a time where so many are struggling, fighting, and dying.

As Valerie now is battling her own Cancer and Avascular Bone Necrosis, in the middle of the worst health crisis in history, I hope we want to do for her what she has done for so many: help. Someone who has been an evangelist and supporter of many, needs that same support now.

Please do what you can and thank you for reading.