By Denis Murphy, Founder, Friends of Jaclyn Foundation
In the childhood cancer community, there is a group of warriors whose courage is rarely acknowledged, whose sacrifices are often unseen, and whose emotional wounds are carried quietly, privately, and for life. These are the siblings — the protectors, the shadows, the steady hands holding families together while the world focuses on the child in the hospital bed.
I call them NEDlings.
The term comes from the phrase NED — No Evidence of Disease, the milestone every family prays for. But for siblings, “NED” becomes a place they live in every day. They exist in the NED Zone, where fear and hope collide, where they learn to be strong long before childhood should require it. NEDlins are the brothers and sisters who carry the emotional weight of cancer without ever being the patient. They are the most overlooked children in the cancer world — and yet they are often the strongest.
No one embodies this more than Taryn Murphy, the younger sister of my daughter, Jaclyn.
When Jaclyn was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor at age nine, our world shattered. Everything became about survival — surgeries, treatments, MRIs, medications, fear. But in the middle of that storm stood Taryn, just seven years old, with a heart far too big for her tiny frame. She became Jaclyn’s protector, her anchor, her constant companion.
Before cancer, they were best friends. After cancer, they became something deeper — soul‑bound sisters, forged in fear, strengthened by love, and united by a journey no child should ever have to walk.
Taryn never complained. She never asked why Jaclyn got all the attention. She never resented the hospital visits, the missed holidays, the whispered conversations between adults. Instead, she stepped into a role that no one assigned her but that she embraced instinctively: guardian.
She held Jaclyn’s hand during the darkest nights. She slept beside her when fear kept them both awake. She learned to read the look in her sister’s eyes before pain arrived. She became the quiet strength that allowed Jaclyn to keep fighting.
Today, Jaclyn is 31. Taryn is 29, a mother of three beautiful, healthy children. And their bond — tested, stretched, and strengthened by cancer — is unbreakable. They are still best friends. Still protectors. Still each other’s safe place.
Cancer shaped them, but it did not define them. Love did. Sisterhood did. Resilience did.
And through the Friends of Jaclyn Foundation, their journey has shaped the lives of thousands of others.
FOJ has improved the quality of life for more than 1,300 children battling pediatric cancers — and their siblings. Because we know now what we didn’t know then: siblings need a team too. They need support, recognition, and a place to put the emotions they’ve been carrying alone.
NEDlins are not secondary characters in the cancer story. They are co‑survivors. They are emotional first responders. They are the glue that holds families together.
Taryn’s strength — quiet, fierce, unwavering — has become a model for every sibling we meet. Her journey with Jaclyn taught us that healing must include the whole family. That love is a form of medicine. And that siblings deserve to be seen, honored, and supported just as deeply as the child in treatment.
The world may not always notice the NEDlins. But at Friends of Jaclyn, we do. Because we’ve lived it. Because we’ve loved it. Because we’ve watched it shape two extraordinary women who continue to change lives every day.
