Believe

Believe

This year has shattered us in ways I never imagined possible. My family has been through the unimaginable, and as I write this, my heart is both heavy and full of gratitude for the lessons we've learned—lessons about courage, hope, and the incredible strength of the human spirit.

A few weeks ago, our world was turned upside down when we learned that our son has cancer. I can barely type the word without feeling the weight of it pressing down on my chest. Cancer—a word that stops time, that rips away your breath and leaves you gasping for anything to hold on to. When the doctor said it, it felt like the end. The end of everything we knew, of everything we hoped for, of the future we had dreamed of for him.

In that moment, it felt like our world had collapsed. I saw the fear in my son's eyes, the uncertainty, the raw vulnerability of a young man faced with the unimaginable. It broke my heart into pieces I wasn't sure could ever be put back together. I wanted to protect him, to take it all away, but I couldn't. All I could do was hold him and promise him that we would face this together, no matter what.

As the days passed, we went through every emotion possible. The fear was suffocating, the anger overwhelming, the sadness paralyzing. There were nights I cried until there were no more tears left, nights when I prayed to take his place, to bear the pain for him. But in the midst of this despair, something miraculous began to happen.

My son, my beautiful, brave son, found a strength within himself that I never knew existed. He faced his diagnosis head-on, with a courage that took my breath away. He showed me that even when you're scared, even when the odds seem insurmountable, there is always a reason to believe.

He had what the doctors called "a man's cancer," a diagnosis that would shake anyone to their core. And yes, he felt the fear. He felt the sadness and the anger. But he also felt something else—something that changed everything. He felt hope. He found within himself a will to fight, a determination to live, and a belief that he could overcome this.

Watching him go through this has been the most heart-wrenching, yet the most inspiring experience of my life. He is my hero, my warrior, my light in the darkest of nights. He has shown me that courage isn't the absence of fear—it's the decision to keep moving forward, even when fear threatens to consume you.

And so, we keep going. We keep fighting. We keep believing. Because what my son has taught me is that cancer might be part of his story, but it doesn't get to write the ending. He does. We do. Together.

If you are reading this and you're facing your own battle, or if someone you love is, please know that you are not alone. I know it feels like the end, but it doesn't have to be. There is always hope, always something to hold on to, even when it feels like everything is slipping away.

Believe in the power of love. Believe in the strength you never knew you had. Believe that miracles can happen, even when the odds are stacked against you. My son is living proof of that.

And to my son, if you ever read this, I want you to know that you are my greatest gift, my greatest lesson, and my greatest hope. I believe in you with every fiber of my being. You are stronger than this disease, and together, we will see the other side.

So please, whoever you are, wherever you are—don't give up. Keep fighting. Keep believing. And know that even in the darkest moments, you are not alone.