Thank you for taking time out to read my story. I wish we were sitting across from each other having a cup of coffee as I would love to hear your story too. Since that can’t happen, let’s do this. As I write, I will be as open and honest as I can be. As you read and think about your own story, I hope you feel seen, understood, and connected.

We all have a story. A wondrously complicated, ever-evolving story. Each one is unique. Each one contains highs and lows and everything in between. Some things we anticipate, other things come completely out of nowhere. Life took me on a journey that I never expected. Not in a million years.

Maybe you can relate?

My life had been pretty “normal” by most accounts, filled with typical and expected life events. From growing up with a brother and a sister, to graduating from college, to getting married, to having two babies. Fast forward a few decades and those babies grew up, married their sweethearts, and began their own new chapters. Of course, there are a lot of missing pieces in that timeline. There were many more highs and lows and in-betweens, but they were fairly predictable and recoverable.

Up until November 30, 2012.

Life has a way of throwing us curveballs. Most of the time, we can adjust and eventually move on. However, sometimes we are hit right smack in the gut with such force that we are knocked to the ground and are never the same. We aren’t sure how to recover, or even if we ever will. We are left grappling with the shattered pieces of our “new normal”, uncertain as to how to move forward. Life threw a high-speed torpedo at me and my family that we never could have imagined, and it turned our world upside down.

That was well over ten years ago.

I never in my most horrific nightmares dreamt I would be a part of the brain cancer world. However, twenty-seven days after our healthy, athletic, fun-loving 26-year-old son married the love of his life, he had a seizure. He was driving 70 mph in 5 o’clock Dallas traffic. The truck flipped across 4 lanes of crowded highway and slammed into a concrete barrier. Not one other car was touched. Not one. He was taken from the scene in an ambulance with only minor visible injuries. However, it was apparent to the paramedics that he had suffered a seizure. The fact that our son did not sustain severe physical injuries (or worse) is one of many miracles our family has witnessed. The fact that the accident led to finding the tumor was another.

This has been quite the journey to say the least. This curveball changed the trajectory of my life, my identity, and the way I exist. It has also played a key role in my healing by unlocking doors I didn’t realize were tightly sealed.

We all deal with life’s destructive pitches in our own way. After this devastating event, I went from disbelief to anger to depression to paralyzing fear. For many years, I lived by just making it from one day to next. To be totally honest, for many of those days, all I could manage was to make it from one minute to the next.

And then . . . a few years ago, I started feeling a little spark of hope. I was able to take a breath. I even noticed I was smiling again. The paralyzing fear that had taken up residence in my soul began to retreat – just a little bit. On most days.

After a very long season of struggling, longing for answers, and desperately trying to adjust to my “new normal”, I now feel I can share my story. Honestly, I feel I need to share my story.

I’m guessing that you too have been thrown some curveballs. And you, like me, are seeking answers, encouragement, and hope. My prayer is that you find exactly that in what you read here.

My story continues to evolve. Life still throws those curveballs. I still struggle. However, I can say I am in a better place now. I continue to heal. I feel encouraged and excited to live life again. I am loving my newfound sense of purpose. On most days. 

My hope is that you too find what you are seeking.

P. S. Both of my “babies” have made me a grandmother (aka DeeDee) to four incredible little humans. I love them more than I can put into words. My son, with a lot of hard work and many more miracles along the way, is not only a brain cancer survivor; he is a brain cancer thriver. Both he and my daughter are finding their own way in this wondrously complicated, ever-evolving life. They both have experienced their ups and downs and in-betweens. But they are writing their own beautiful stories, and I could not be prouder.