What is your story?

Life is a funny thing. We go about our day trying to put our best foot in front of the other. We look at the world around us and wonder what the person at the check out is thinking, or why the person at the gas pump was frowning. Somewhere along the way we hear or say how so many people appear to be so caught up in their own world, that they seem so cranky or inpatient. But at the end of the day, do we ever stop and ask them how their day is? Do we ever start a conversation with them to see why they look unhappy, to see if there is anything that we could do to make their day even a little bit better? I think the answer is no. I would love to say I do...but the truth is, I am just as guilty. It's so easy to judge someone by their outward appearance, by not wanting to approach because they seem so grumpy, so busy, or in their own world. But at the end of the day, that's not what I want the kids to grow up doing. As much as we try to remind the kids that maybe their friend that yelled may have been feeling sad or scared inside. Or that, maybe that friend that was really reserved just needed someone to go up to them and start a conversation - I recognize it's not always easy.  Sometimes you don't want to share your story, sometimes you don't think people want to hear it. Often times you don't know how.

Everyone has a story - their story is just as important as your story. That's what I have told the kids for as long as they could understand. That's what I would tell Bryanna all the time.

I have a story to tell as well. But my story is not one that many people are prepared to hear. I know that while I may be smiling and laughing at times, there are many times that I may seem unapproachable or reserved. I may look serious or even sad. But that's my story. I have three kids. Three beautiful kids - 9 year old Bryanna (who would have been 10 in two weeks), 7 year old Evey and 4 year old Liam. As my story goes - I have one daughter that blessed my life with her contagious laugh, her beautiful smile, her candid honesty, her sassy attitude, her love for dance, her struggle with math, her blue eyes, her love for fashion, her unbeatable love for animals, her love for my black heels, her sweet nurturing side, and her love for our special ice cream dates in the middle of the night. I have another daughter who has blessed my life with her quirky smile, her contagious laugh, her giggles in her sleep, her love for inventing amazing functional things, her love for dancing, her new found love of fashionable clothes and matching socks, her love for go carts and archery, her love for cheetahs and leopard print clothes, her nurturing nature, her fixer attitude, her strength and her candid honesty. I have a son who loves to dance, who makes most people smile, who loves hugs, who loves pink, princess Elena, costume dresses, who loves to quietly listen and says the most wise and unexpected things, who loves zooming cars around and who really loves his sisters. 

I have three kids. One in heaven and two here with me. One in my heart and two in my arms. 

Yesterday was one of those days that my story took over my day. It was an impossible day. We have been working with our health insurance provider and the Health exchange to get Bryanna's date of death correctly noted so that we can get reimbursed for the months that she was on our policy but no longer alive. This has been taking place since January. We have sent her death certificate to each company, made a min of 8 calls back and forth and was required to physically take her death certificate to a physical location to show proof of death. We followed up time after time and was told the matter was resolved and to call back in a month or so to apply the credit as it is updated in the system. So, I called yesterday. It was then that I found out that nothing had changed. That they wanted me to go through the entire thing again. Keep in mind, this is not taking a birth certificate or marriage certificate in to show proof of a happy time in your life. No, this is constantly having to prove that my 9 year old daughter, that my first born child died on October 24, 2016.  She died in both Mike and my arms I might add. This just adds insult to injury. They have once again escalated the matter but this means that nothing is resolved, and yet again I have to wait for a call by a supervisor and discuss my daughters date of death to yet another person, to yet another stranger, to resolve a business matter. A cold business matter. 

That was so difficult. So, naturally afterwards I was a mess. I tried to focus on my work (which when upset like that makes it quite difficult to focus on translations). Just when I thought the pain of not being able to hold Bryanna was impossible to get through, I realized that Fireworks started playing on my Pandora station. Fireworks - Bryanna's favorite song. Fireworks - the song that got her through  her final really difficult days. After that Centuries from Fall out boy came on...the lyrics 

"Some legends are told
Some turn to dust or to gold
But you will remember me
Remember me, for centuries"

kept sticking with me. After that song, I composed myself and I started working. I had a pop station on the radio - a pop station that normally ONLY plays pop. As I was working and I was starting to feel more calm, I realized that pop music was not actually playing. Piano music was playing. Not just any piano music...but the specific songs that she loved that would play every night when I put the kids to bed. The specific songs that were on a very different station. I have never had a time where the stations switched like that. I have had this happen before. Early on, when I was playing music at the cemetery and asking for a sign...anything to know that Bryanna was with me...the song I was playing suddenly stopped... suddenly without anything being clicked or in queue, fireworks started playing. There as no explanation...it just was. I know this sounds crazy, but I'm not the only one to have these stories happen. Bryanna is with us. 

 Today, Liam and I had an unexpected lunch date. He wasn't feeling the best, so he was quite.  I told him how amazed I was that our plants were getting super tall because we planted them from bulbs. He says: "oh no, they are so big. What if they grow to the sky?!"I said, "well then bryanna would get to see them too". He responded "Bryanna already sees them".  Let me remind you that Liam is 4.  The power behind his words just blows me away. 

The day before our trip to honor Bryanna and to celebrate Evey and Liam, Evey and I stopped by the cemetery to sit with puppy angel. We were so surprised to see that her headstone had been installed that day. We sat in front of it saying how beautiful it was. As we sat there, my arms around Evey while she sat on my lap - Evey says "Bryanna is happy now". Let me remind you that she is 7. 

The questions at bed time in our home tend not to be about simple things like, will the weather allow us to be outside at camp tomorrow, or why do dogs sniff butts...you know the simple kid stuff. Rather, our questions are loaded and heavy and thought provoking. It's questions like - are there oceans in heaven? Does it hurt when you die? Did Bryanna want to be in heaven as much as she wanted to be here with us. Did Bryanna have a cold that led to her leukemia. Will I get it? 

This is our story. 

Before you judge a kid for having a melt down or not listening in public, before you judge a child for always being in their mom or dad's arms, even though they are old enough to run around on their own, before you judge a lady at the store for looking unapproachable, before you judge a man who seems inpatient, take a moment and ask what their story is. You never know, that kid may have lost a sister to a horrible cancer. That kid may be terrified of leaving their parent's side because they had to leave their sister's side and she died. That lady may be a mom who is trying to make sense of her daughter's death and is thinking what she could make for dinner that would make her kids smile and forget their pain even for just a moment. That man may be thinking about the last discussion he had with his daughter or may be thinking of how he had to rush to the hospital to be by her side as she passed away.

Everyone has a story - we can choose to have a bad day or choose to have a good day. What we do with our story is what defines us. How we get through the impossible days will give us strength to be present. It is with that presence that our story will keep growing. There is so much darkness in my story - but I believe that the sun will continue to shine bright and light our way. I believe that the days may be hard, but we can always find something good in it. We can always choose to do good. As I was reminded by a very wise man today, we need to remember to find three things we like every day. That's so important. Our story isn't all bad. We had 9 beautiful years with Bryanna. We have beautiful butterflies, animals and nature all around us. We are surrounded by people who love us. We are living each day feeling Bryanna's Love. We have each other. 

We have to live our story, but we also have to make it count. 

This is my story. 

Grape Scented Bubbles and Never Ending Hugs

We are a full week into Summer vacation and emotions have been running high. Like every family, we have so much going on in each and every day. We have camp, doctor appointments, counseling, work, and the time somewhere at the end of the day that we sit on the couch and at least one person falls asleep.  We need to find a way this summer to slow down. To let life happen without exhausting our energy all day every day. We need to breathe.

A week ago school ended. June 19th marked another first since Bryanna was diagnosed with cancer and subsequently passed away. The end of the school year came. I remember the first day of First grade for Evey and PEP for Liam. It was also the first day of fourth grade for Bryanna. It was a day she was dreading because she was certain she was not going to make any friends. It was a day that we never expected to look like it did.  The first day of school came about a month after our life was changed forever. It came a few weeks after I emailed Bryanna's team at school to let them know that she would likely miss the beginning of the school year. That she had been diagnosed with Leukemia and that we needed to get her into remission before she could go back. It was during that time that we were hoping that at the very least, she could attend in a month or so, but then decided collectively with her team of doctors that she would not attend school at all this year. We were all too concerned that it would be too dangerous for her. We were concerned that even if she reached remission, that she would be near kids and germs and contagious colds that could set her back. We were concerned that the stress of school would not help her heal (School was a very stressful hard place for Bryanna. It didn't come easy in so  many ways and she struggled every day). Moving forward, the first day of school for Evey (Liam started a day later) was a surreal day that we all tried to get through with a smile and with grace. Mike and I arranged to make it possible for me to stay home the night before school started and to take Evey to school. Mike stayed with Bryanna - We wanted to make sure that Bryanna felt special and loved as she laid in her hospital bed dealing with chemo, nausea
, excruciating pain and her hell we know as cancer. At the same time, we wanted Evey to feel special - like her day mattered, that first grade was a big deal and that we were present for her just as much as we were for Liam and just as much as we were for Bryanna. Making her feel special and being present wasn't hard. It was knowing that as I stand with Evey as she sits in line with her new classmates, as I talk with her teacher briefly, as I hug her and take our first selfie of the school year and swing her around and smile ear to ear, I knew that Bryanna was fighting for her life. That Bryanna didn't have a choice. Bryanna was not at this school, in the cafeteria with all the other kids lining up with their new teachers and classmates about to start a new school year and excited about being in the fourth grade. That was such a difficult balance. It was hard. It sucked. After leaving the school only after giving  Evey 100 hugs, and telling her that we will be there to pick her up, that she will have a great day, and we are with her in her heart the entire day...I got my ice coffee...pretty much the one drink I had all day while I stayed at the hospital. I then started on my hour long drive to the hospital crying most the way and rushed in to Bryanna's room as she was waiting for me anxiously. Mike had to leave shortly after I arrived so he could get to work, but once again we seamlessly made sure that all three kids mattered, that all kids felt loved and somehow, we did it together.

Flash forward a few months to last Friday. It was so sad to know that Bryanna would not be moving up to Fifth grade. She would not be excited for the last day of school...the day when we always treat the kids to ice cream or the dinner of their choice. It was a day that we celebrated a job well done for Evey and Liam. It's a day we realized that we made it through the year. But the void is still there. I am so proud that the kids made it through this year. It was brutal for them. It was painful. It was hard. It was emotional. There were times that I didn't think we would get through it. But we did. Next year is going to be hard too. Starting school will be another transition that Evey will likely struggle with. It will be another confusing change for Liam but we will do it.
It was sad to me that as we ended school, instead of holding Bryanna's hand out to the car as they liked to do, Evey was holding the donation box that we had in the office for Bryanna's Love...containing stuffed animals to give to kids like Bryanna, fighting for their life and missing out on the normal kids things. It made me so proud to see how much she wanted to help. How much she wants to be a part of Bryanna and her story.  From the outside, it may just look like a little girl carrying a big box, but to me it was a huge mile stone. It was Evey being okay with that box. It was Evey dealing with the fact that the box is the closest thing we had of Bryanna in that moment as we left the school on her last day of First grade.

All this comes a week after the Memorial that Children's National Medical Center's Grief and Remembrance program hosted for the families of children that passed away at the hospital over the past two years. It was beautiful and emotional all at the same time. We were dreading going, but we needed to do this. We thought we could get through it until we walked through the door and was greeted by a handful of her team from the hospital. They volunteered to work this year. They volunteered to be there knowing that Bryanna was going to be honored along with all the others beautiful kids. It was in that moment that I wasn't so sure that I could do it. It's one thing to be there with a large room full of strangers, and it's an entirely different thing to meet people that make all the difference for your family. It made all the difference to us that they were there. They knew us by name. They knew Bryanna by name. They made Evey and Liam feel special. They knew. They just knew. They made sure everyone was given a packet with a butterfly that we would let go when the name of your child was called. It was so beautiful. It was so magical...it would have made Bryanna so incredibly happy.  I was taking pictures of the kids during this during which I was so touched by the incredible bond that Evey and Liam have. They show such strength through this undeniably hard time. They show love and support, even though they don't always  understand it. They are sad-mad, happy, angry, hurt, scared and every other emotion that they can feel. But they both get it. They both understand each other, even when they don't put it all in words. Yes, they have their moments, but more often than not, they are right next to each other unknowingly getting the other through this struggle. I miss the pictures of the three of them together, but I'm grateful that they are so close that they want to be together. I did not plan any of these photos - they were completely candid, which make them that much more powerful to me. We had some really great ones with the kids and butterflies, which we like to think one might have been Bryanna...especially the one that kept staying near or on us. But out of respect for Evey and Liam's privacy, I can only show you a few.  I'm grateful that we are in a time where we can easily take pictures and videos. I need to keep taking advantage of that because those pictures and the few videos I have is what gets me through some of the toughest days of missing my baby girl.

The remembrance tree (I'm not sure if that was the exact name) - All the siblings wrote a message for their brother or sister. These were then put on by each child to a tree for the ceremony. After the ceremony, the remembrance team put them on a tree in front of the hospital for the wind and rain to bring each message back to the earth. Each message was voiced by Evey and Liam and Mike and I transcribed. 

Bryanna was one of way too many children's picture that was up in the front of the hall to be honored. Way too many children passed away. Way too many families were feeling our pain. Way too many people continued to suffer. 

One of my favorite pictures - This is the truth of our life right now. We miss Bryanna so much, try to be so close to her, even when we don't realize where we are sitting, what we are facing and what we are doing. 

Holding onto that butterfly and making sure it was safe really was the kids trying to hold on to a little bit of Bryanna. To touch her, to be there with her. To feel her. ..

This little butterfly kept landing on us. On my head, on Mike's hand, on Evey's dress, on Liam...and on Bryanna's picture. Over and over.  It makes me wonder....

Moving forward to this past week. The first week of camp. The camp that Bryanna loved so much, that was so wonderful to Evey and Liam over the year. It was a camp that did everything in their power to make Evey feel okay while Bryanna was first diagnosed and in the hospital during the summer. This is the same camp that helped put an amazing celebration to honor Bryanna after Bryanna's passed away. We love them. But it was the first time that the kids had to get back into the swing of camp...without Bryanna. It was hard. Evey struggled to go every day because she was only a stone's throw from where Bryanna's used to be. She struggled to be away from me, her safety. She struggled to be okay during assembly...the most energetic time during camp where they have skits, dancing and all around amazing fun. That's when Bryanna and Evey would sit together, dance together and sneak their last hug before embarking on their day with their group (Liam was at daycare on the same property...but this is the first year that he is old enough to be with the big kids). The second day of camp came with many challenges. They both had a dentist appointment and then Evey had an ophthalmology appointment where she learned she had to have an eye patch for an extended period every day for the entire summer. NOT a highlight of her summer for sure.  But getting her back to camp that next day was a flashback to how she struggled at school after Bryanna's passed. It was a lot of crying, running back to the parking lot (which scared me), having to have a strong team of people on the ready to help her get in the groove of camp and distract her just long enough for me to leave. It was trying. It was exhausting. It was heart breaking.  I was so tempted to take her home, to snuggle her and to let her have a movie day with me. But that doesn't help her face this, and that doesn't make any of it go away. Besides...they made sure to take her aside and let her do archery. one on one with the lead counselor..which made her week. During this week, Liam struggled to keep up with his group. His asthma continued to flare up and he progressively started to struggle. He started to not feel well even more than before, and it was a hard balance of letting him go to camp and making sure that he was healthy. On Thursday, I picked him up early because he had an asthma attack. Code orange air quality coupled with smoke from the camp fire put a big damper on his breathing. We got him home, gave him a nebulizer treatment and he slept and snuggled the rest of the day. And then he spiked a fever. For the past few months, Liam has been losing weight, falling, fatigued more than before, not much of an appetite, having leg pain, vomiting and having stomach pain. And now he spiked a fever. His team of doctors are doing their due diligence to find what the problem is. In the mean time, we try to keep him as active as possible and send him to camp. We are hoping that whatever is going on...we will finally figure it out, and he will have an easier time at camp. He talks about Bryanna so much more on the days that he goes to camp. It's pretty amazing to hear our kids who struggle to express these feelings, to talk about heaven and Bryanna so freely as we go to camp. I'm hoping that while they have fun, after they get over the anxiety of being there and they start enjoying their day...hopefully somewhere along the way the find a little nugget of peace.

After Liam talked about Bryanna being in heaven on the way to camp last week, Evey told me that she hates that word. That she thinks it should have been called something else. I agree...heaven doesn't sound the same to me. But then again, it's a place that my beautiful girl is when she should be here with me. It is a place that I can not go right now. It is a place where we can not hold Bryanna. Anything we name it would be tough to swallow. We wouldn't like it if we called it the park or Disney world either...because the little girl we love is there and not here with us.  But at the end of the day, we have to have faith. We have to know that heaven is a beautiful place of peace and happiness. It is a place that Bryanna no longer feels pain or suffering, that she is happy and that she is not alone, not scared and is okay. 

Hopefully the grape scented bubbles that greet the kids, along with the high fives, the personalized shout outs to each of the kids, the fun music, the great activities...and hopefully the making of friends...will allow the kids to put their guard down and to enjoy each activity, enjoy the moment and find a little bit of peace. 

That's what I want. I want the pain to subside just enough to find peace. I want to know that when the kids melt down it's because they are dealing with kid emotions and kid things...not grown up issues like the death of their sister. I want to make it all better, but I know that's not possible. I want to hold Bryanna. I want to talk to her again. I want to smell her. For now, I will settle with grape scented bubbles at camp. I make sure to continue to hold the kids every day. I want to let them let go of me first when I hug them so they know that the hug is there for as long and as often that they need it. 

I want wake up to three kids excited about their day...not just two. But these are the cards I am dealt. We will be okay. I will continue to breath and get through each day. Even the impossible ones.

Evey and Liam basking in the joy of catching grape scented bubbles, and about to high five more people than the average athlete does on their way to the field. It is a moment of happiness, a moment excitement before they think about Bryanna not being with them...dancing all the way in. Bryanna's love for camp was contagious...

The simplest acts leave the best memories.

It's been a while since I have post a new entry to my blog.  My hope starting this blog would be to update it often, to use it as an avenue to share my thoughts, my struggles, my memories, my laughter. A place to heal. It has helped. It truly has. But I realized it is also so very hard. Some days writing down my thoughts seem harder than the memories that I want to keep alive. There is a wall that I put up. A wall that needs to come down a little more often. It is a wall of survival. It is the barrier between me functioning and being present in life and for my kids, and burying my head in my pillows. Without this wall, I don't think I could be present. This wall has made it possible to just be. Be a mom. Be human. Just be. But I realize, that I have to let the door open a little.  The reality is that we are no longer numb. I am no longer numb. That wall went up pretty early on as the numbness started to subside.  It gives me focus on the days that I just can't, it gives me courage to take that next step when I don't think I can...but I have to take those steps and feel at the same time. I have to remember that feeling is healing. Feeling is being human. Feeling is being alive.

Bryanna wanted to go to Disney Wold. She wanted to meet Princess Elena and see the animals at Animal kingdom lodge. She dreamed of being with the animals and princess every day. We talked about it extensively. She responded to the story of Disney when she was in the CICU. But ultimately she never was able to get her wish trip. At the exact time that we were picking out where to lay her to rest at the cemetery...when we were choosing her plot, Make a Wish called to discuss her Wish Trip. Words can't describe the devastation, the loss, the timing.
We wanted to make that trip happen. We wanted to give an unforgettable experience to Evey and Liam to honor Bryanna and to celebrate them. To give them some down time and fun away from life. But such a trip came with a very hefty price tag. One that we could not afford any time soon. We are still paying off Bryanna's medical bills, plus payments for her headstone, and every day bills. It just wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Just when I was going to give up on the trip, something absolutely amazing happened. Casey Cares Foundation heard Bryanna's story. Bryanna yet again touched the hearts of people that she never met. Though they typically do not do such lengthy far away respite trip, they rallied their donors and they made it happen. An amazingly generous donor donated a beautiful room in a spectacular resort in orlando, Medeival times donated a dinner show, American Airlines donated round trip tickets, in addition to the gift cards, treats, pjs and gifts for the kids... Then, we were connected with another amazing organization called Growth from Grief. Without hesitation, they donated a day at Disney, Seaworld, the Bones Museum and Coco key.  This trip became a reality. It was so hard to think about how we were on the receiving end of such amazing generosity, and that we indeed qualify for it because we lost our princess warrior. It is through these organizations and donors that we found more moments of happiness, of relaxation, of pure joy in the kids that we never thought was possible again. Our pilot on our way to Orlando talked with me a few moments before boarding while getting his manifest for the flight, and then went out of his way to talk with Evey and Liam about their first upcoming flight and trip. He asked the name of Evey's buddy she was traveling with (Sid..who is Evey's trusty weighted turtle) and Liam's lovey. He then invited them to the cock pit to experience a moment of being a pilot. During his greetings through the intercom while we were getting ready to taxi on the runway, he welcomed Evey, Liam, Sid and Lovey on his plane. It is in these moments that magic is made. The cast members at Magic Kingdom went out of their way to make it special for the kids, for us. They did so many moments of kindness that meant so much. The team at the Marriott went out of the way to make a special basket of goodies for Mike and I, a ton of welcome balloons and a stuffed animal for both Evey and Liam. Every detail was beautiful. Every detail of this trip counted. Every detail from every person involved in making this happen made a difference.

We saw the kids drop their wall and have fun. We saw the kids splash in the pool and get excited about balloons and stuffed animals. We saw them be kids again. Until they remembered why we were there. While there were so many amazing moments and times, there were also tears and questions. Before going out to dinner one night, Evey and I sat in the kitchen of our hotel room and cried. I sat there holding Evey on the cold floor letting her pour her soul to me while Mike listened next to us and Liam tried to stay busy. I watched Liam look lost and sad as we go to bed or when he would be eating a desert, and say how much he missed Bryanna. This trip was so important. It was another opportunity for us to try to piece together our hearts and take another step forward through the pain. It was important for the kids to see that yes, they do indeed matter. But it was hard. While we enjoyed our time away, everyone was ready to come back. But being back was a stark reminder of our loss. Coming home didn't bring us Bryanna back. It brought us home to a void that we thought would be better. Sure, we know that this is life, that this is what happens after death, that nothing will bring Bryanna back. But sometimes, it just feels like she will be there waiting for us. She's not.

Liam asks about Bryanna. He asks about why we can't go visit her in heaven. He has to deal with a very adult concept at such a young age and try to grasp some level of understanding. That's hard. He had a doctor's appointment at Children's National yesterday. He was incredibly whiny and clingy the entire time. While we waited for Mike at one point, he told me he was sad that he couldn't see bryanna. That he knew this was the same hospital that she was in. On the way home, he asked if the cemetery we were passing was Bryanna's. It was not. These are the questions and the stress plaguing my four year old's mind. He got a little stuffed animal to keep during this visit and Mike got one for Evey to have as well. As they talked about their new pets, Evey asked where his appointment was. I told him it was at the hospital. She then so very gently told Liam that she didn't realize he was going to Bryanna's hospital. She asked how it was. He said if was ok. They both sounded so sad. This is our reality. Liam has another appointment there next week. It doesn't get easier.

Evey was so mad that she had to stop playing on the swing last night. So very mad...like screaming and yelling kind of mad. But in the end, it came out to be her only way to control her life in that moment. She really was really mad about Bryanna. She missed her so much that it hurt. She asked how I knew that Bryanna died and I told her how I laid next to Bryanna when she died. She screamed, she cried, she just wanted to be on that swing. Swinging was the one thing she could control. She could control how high she was, how much she would spin and when she would go or stop. It is so easy to think that she is just being a kid who is being demanding, unruly and defiant. But really, it is in that moment that she is trying to hold on to the little bit of life that makes sense. It is Evey's way of forgetting the pain, forgetting the void and trying to just be a kid. Losing that moment pushed her over the edge for the night. Dinner, bed time...it was all tears, it was all anger, it was all pain.

The day before we left on our trip, Evey and I stopped by the cemetery. Bryanna's headstone had been installed that day. The day before we were leaving on our trip to honor her and celebrate E and L. It was so beautiful yet so final. This Sunday, Children's National is honoring the children who have passed away at their facility by having a memorial service. Next week is the last day of first grade (liam will continue in pre-k for one more year), and would have been the last week of fourth grade for Bryanna.  We have to continue to have the strength to keep taking that next step. It is hard. It is painful and there are days like today where it almost feels impossible. But the sun is shining - butterflies and birds are fluttering around reminding us that there is so much life in the simple things. The kids are transitioning to another part of their year.  We have to take these little moments, these little steps and enjoy the moments of smiles, of winks, of kisses and hugs, of happiness. We need to feel the sunshine and breath in the warm air. We need to take note that through the low, we are blessed with amazing people around us that are there to pick us up.

Words cannot express our gratitude and appreciation for everyone who made this trip happen, for everyone who was there for us during Bryanna's treatment and afterwards through her passing. There are no words that could truly express how I feel most days and how much I recognize what everyone does for us. I have no words, just love.

We will get through the  moments. We will release the butterfly during the memorial and we will continue to love through the pain.

The simplest acts leave the best memories.

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Stitch Attack! Ohana Means Family. Family Means nobody gets left behind or forgotten!

Bryanna's Love - Give Kids a Snuggle

Approximately 2 weeks into Bryanna's admission at Children's National Hospital, 2 weeks after learning that our worst nightmare had come true...that Bryanna was fighting for her life. Two weeks after we learned that Bryanna had ETP-ALL, not AML, not T-Cell ALL...Two weeks after having to pick ourselves up, dust off the fear and produce a strength that we had know idea we had...I started a caring bridge page for Bryanna. It was to update all our friends and family of what was happening. It was a way for people to understand the severity of Bryanna's condition, though we couldn't possibly list all the horrible things she was enduring. It was a place where I found peace this time at night, when the room was dark, Bryanna was sleeping undisturbed, I knew Evey and Liam were in bed, and I had stopped working for the day. It was at this time in the night that I would update, I would pour out our day into what became one of our life lines. Caringbridge was something I resisted creating as I couldn't fathom sharing our personal struggles with the world. It seemed so unnatural. And yet, it became my bridge to the outside world. It became my connection to the world outside the walls in Bryanna's room. It was my own silent encouragement, it was the secret to my strength. It was helping me fight. Now it is my documented memory of our fight.

Bryanna's Story Profile on CaringBridge.com/bryannasteam

"Bryanna -  She is our warrior - she is our strong and brave little girl who is fighting the fight. We appreciate your support and all your prayers. She needs all she can get!  She will beat this and we will be with her every single step of the way!" - The very first thing that I noted about Bryanna's story. 

The end of her very first post on August 14, 2016:

"She is our trooper and from here on she will have to fight the hardest battle of her life.  We know that the only way to get through this is to lean on our village. To get through this, we have to ensure that she can find joy and humor in the good moments and feel okay to cry through the bad moments. We need to stand together as a family and embrace this journey with all the heart that we can muster. This is not just a journey for Bryanna, but it is one for Liam and Evey as well. They are having to work through this along side her and learn how to cope with all these very scary and confusing changes. We are strong though - Bryanna, Evey and Liam will all be okay. They will get through this with everyone's help, love and support.  For Bryanna, this is only part of her story.  There is so much more to Bryanna than cancer. She will win this battle and will show the world what she has to offer. She will continue to make people smile and she will not lose this battle. We have her back. Cancer will not win. " 

~ For Bryanna, this is only part of her story.  There is so much more to Bryanna than cancer. She will win this battle and will show the world what she has to offer. She will continue to make people smile and she will not lose this battle. We have her back. Cancer will not win.~

How true is that. There is so much more to Bryanna than Cancer. She will continue to make people smile....cancer will not win.....

God, I wish this post was a reflection about how far Bryanna has come, and that she was hitting remission, that she was reading this post with me and we were marveling at the progress she made...the strength she still had to fight...the battle that she was winning.  Instead, I have this blog to make sense of her death. Her death caused by a rare and aggressive form of cancer. 

 Directly before letting Bryanna go and again afterwards, we were asked if we would consent to a autopsy. Bryanna's body had failed in every sense of the word. The super bugs she had shut her body down. The chemo was killing her. The leukemia was killing her. The drug we had to use to foster white blood cell growth, which was her only chance of beating the infections was harvesting her cancer cells. We were growing her cancer in an effort to save her from the infection. IT all came back to cancer. We declined the autopsy. She hated to be touched - so we couldn't possibly let that happen. I remember telling Bryanna's doctor...who by the way, I have the utmost respect and consider her a friend...that this was cancer. Her body failed because of so many things...but the ultimate cause was cancer. It was cancer. 

This is only part of her story. She will show the world what she has to offer. She will continue to make people smile...how could I know the impact she would have on the world? We have started our Bryanna's Love - Give Kids a Snuggle Campaign. We have heard first hand stories of how strongly Bryanna's story has impacted them. How it had changed their life, how Bryanna has given them a deeper understanding of what love is. That Bryanna has saved their lives. Yes...we have heard of the direct impact Bryanna has had on a special someone and it saved their life. Bryanna...my beautiful little girl continues to work her magic...her love. Her story is so powerful, so meaningful...we just have to keep sharing it. 

It was so hard to get started on this campaign...to tell Bryanna's story...to remind myself that it hasn't even been a full 7 months since she passed. It feels like only yesterday when I held her...when I could smell her...when I could touch her. The only way I can get through this right now is to know that her love is being felt by so many other kids and families. It is to continue to share her story, to bring awareness to ETP-ALL, to make kids happy. It is to make sure that we as a family are working together through this and being a part of this little nugget of snuggles and love that we are trying to share. With that, we really want her love to be felt by so many. We want to do great things and know that Bryanna would have been so very proud of us. We know that she would have been so excited about these campaigns. I know for a fact that she would have been a very big part in doing this. She always wanted to help others. Now, it's our time to help her help others. We would love to invite you to join us during this campaign.  Please also feel free to follow us on facebook as we will continue to update the drop off locations for this Give Kids a Snuggle Campaign.  We will be extending this to soft blankets for the kids and the families as well, as this got us through some of the toughest nights...and we still today have them on our beds. Thank you so much for your support and we are excited to join forces again to share Bryanna's Love to those who need a snuggle and a little extra love the most. All donations will be going to the HEMONC/PICU/CICU units at Children's National Hospital. Our first campaign yielded over 300 stuffed animals in just 2 weeks. We know we can do more! We had a wonderful company help us by donating 16 build a bears that they made during a team building exercise during the last campaign! There are so many wonderful ways to collect these stuffed animals...and each and everyone of them are received with smiles and love. We hope that this campaign will yield enough stuffed animals that will help bridge the gap between Christmas and the summer months when the existing donations are depleted. We hope to grow and be able to extend this to surrounding hospitals and at some point nationally. For now, we will start slow and continue to give back to the one place that we love and appreciate so much - Children's National Medical Center

Please check out our facebook page at (www.facebook.com/bryannaslove) as we will continue to update it with new drop off locations. 

Bryanna's Love - Give Kids a Snuggle Campaign

Date: Now through the end of June 

Items Needed: Stuffed Animals and Blankets NEW with the Tags or in Original Packaging as these will be going to very medically fragile children and their families.

Drop Off Locations (More locations are pending and will be updated at a later date):
Burtonsville Elementary School
Fairland Elementary School
Banneker Middle School
Camp Sonshine (Silver Spring) (also noted on their facebook page)
Green Turtle Burtonsville
Dave and Barry's Deli
Pediatric Associates (Prosperity Drive, Silver Spring)
(A moment of Magic has sent a news letter to their followers as well!)

Auburn School

or Mail To: PO BOX 448 Burtonsville, MD. 20866

(Some business require the physical street address on Amazon - if the PO box is not accepted, please use the post office's physical address:
15210 Dino Dr, Box 448, Burtonsville, MD 20866)

Thanks so much! 

Remember - You are never alone - You always have Bryanna's Love!

  

This Sunday is mothers day. It is the day that most mom's dream of sleeping in, taking looong showers by themselves, going to the bathroom and sitting there in total peace with no mayhem taking place in the next room. It is a day that we dream that there will be no crying, no fighting and no major disasters to clean up. It is a day that we dream of chocolate and grapes being fed to us on a beach. It is a day that we dream of endless foot massages and no cooking, dishes or overall cleaning and yet the house is magically still in tact and sparkling clean. It is a day where we dream of breathing in magical spring time air, with sparkles around us as sun shines down us telling us how stinking amazing we are. Yeah, that's a dream. Queue the music screaming to a halt and the sparkles going up your mommy nose while the mirror reflecting the sun on you blinds you in the eyes. That's what people dream mommy hood is - what mother's day is.  The reality is, that is the one day a year that the kids want you up earlier than Santa Clause to show you their cute and thoughtful gifts that they have been trying to hide all week. That is the morning that you realize the wonderful masterpiece of breakfast in bed the kids bring in giggling the whole way. They are so incredibly proud of their success that they forgot that they spilled an entire container of pink sprinkles all over the table as they were pouring it on bread to serve me a sprinkle sandwich. Mother's day is not a day of rest for the weary, no - it is another day to carry on this battle of motherhood - the day when we mother's unite and say being a mom is flipping hard, and yet even on this day we still do what we were meant to do...we mother. We kiss the boo boos, we clean up sprinkles in the cracks of the table and the floor. We eat that ever so amazing bread with sprinkles...ya that was fun. We spend a few extra minutes eating the banana on the plate because that is the most palatable thing. You praise, you love, you hug, you kiss. Ya, you don't get a break. But seriously...I can't imagine spending mother's day without the three kids that gave me the opportunity to celebrate that day as a mother.
And yet here I am. A few days before mothers day wondering how I am going to get through it. Wondering how I am going to get through another day let alone the most celebrated day a mother gets a year.

It is in these moments that I remember:

Every day is mother's day. Every day is a day that your kids look up to you to know that they are okay, that they got this. It is the day like today where it is raining buckets, and we had to run through rivers (actually more specifically hot lava that was burning our feet) in the parking lot to get to school. It is days like today where Liam insists on catching rain in his umbrella upside down rather than preventing rain from hitting his head. It is in those moments that I put my umbrella over him to protect him from the bone-chilling rain. But he didn't know I did that. He kept trying to figure out why the water wasn't hitting him. He didn't know that I was shielding him from the cold, the rain, the elements in the only way that I could in that moment. It is days like when Liam comes out crying because he has a tummy ache in the middle of the night while I"m on the phone. I bend over to bring him in for a hug and it is in that precise moment that he projectile vomits in my mouth. Then immediately after on my face. I tell my sister that I will call her back. I strip my clothes, I give up on the mess on the floor for now, as this is survival at it's best. I put him on my lap to console him, clean his toes that got messy and put him back to bed. I take the longest shower I possibly could muster while reminding myself that at least he is feeling better and praying that I don't get the tummy bug. I call my sister back and was surprised to hear that she heard the entire thing and was amazed that I was still consoling him through the puke drenched face. This is what mother hood is. It is down right dirty. It can suck.  Motherhood is making sure your cute sweet little kid got all the poop out of their butt so they don't have an irritation. It's about making the first day of first grade all about Evey, making that her special day and smiling and laughing, even though you know your 4th grader will likely never attend school that year and is fighting for her life in the hospital. It's about trying not to freak out when the milk spilled all over the floor for the 20th time during dinner because you are just so stinking tired that you can't imagine having to clean something up again. But, you remind yourself that it is in these moments...it is precisely in these moments that your reaction counts. It is because you stand up and breathe, it is because you comfort and console, it is because you praise and encourage that these kids will continue to come back to you when they need you the most. They will come to you in the middle of the night. They will tell you when they did something they weren't supposed to. It is in these moments that we will know when Evey hit liam not on accident but on purpose...because she felt safe telling me. Because she felt like she should tell me and that she could tell me.  I am not a perfect parent. I am very far from that. I have made so many mistakes but we learn together.  I found out that Evey had some pizza at school. My lactose intolerant Evey who normally would take the cheese off, felt like this was the day that she was going to rise above her intolerance and eat that ever so delicious pizza with cheese at school. After 1 bite, she ended up on the potty. Long enough, that her food was thrown away and recess had started. I didn't know that. That night, dinner was later than usual. Like - much later than usual. She kept asking for a snack. I gave her a small one. Then when we realized our plans for dinner were falling through I got them happy meals at McDonalds. She started crying before hand because she was feeling cranky and upset. She told me that she didn't eat lunch and why.  My heart broke. I am supposed to protect my kids, nurish them, make them feel safe and happy...and yet, I failed to see...failed to pay attention to all the signs that screamed that she needed food. We sat in the parking lot while the kids happily ate their meals and I apologized. I told her I was so sorry for not feeding her sooner (It was 7, they normally eat around 5). That I was so sorry that I didn't see how hungry she was even though she patiently kept asking for snacks. Her response..."That's okay...I should have told you that I didn't have lunch. I guess we have to communicate better." My epic mommy fail turned into a sweet moment. That's what being a mom during an average day is like. Motherhood is following through on a promise to have thursday game night with the 4 of us. Evey has decided that every thursday (no other day) will be game night, and every Friday will be when we go out to eat. There is no compromise with her dates, no wiggle room. If we can't do either of those on the designated date, then we have to wait for that following week. She has had to compromise and bend to fit this new normal of life, she can't seem to bend on these new rules. Yet, they don't feel like rules. Tonight was our first game night since Bryanna died. It was a great night. It was tough...trying playing memory with a tired four year old and a seven year old who keeps mixing up the cards. But popcorn eased all of that. Sometimes the simplest things bring the best moments.

Bryanna posing at On the Border when we lived in Massachusetts. 

The clan eating a pizza picnic 2 days after moving into our new apartment after our apartment fire 2 years ago.

Just being us.

The first and last time that Bryanna got to go outside because her ANC was in a safe zone.

This morning, as we lay in bed looking at pictures of Bryanna, Evey and Liam conquering the world together...as we reminisce about the pictures of having a pizza picnic in our new apartment only 2 days after we moved in sans any furniture and belongings due to our apartment fire...Evey marveled at how beautiful Bryanna was. Liam kept saying how proud he was of her when he saw the picture of her sick in the hospital. They pointed out all the stuffed animals that they now keep close and snuggle that she had on her bed. Liam then said "Let's go to the hospital and see her today". Happiness came to a screaming stop. We can't. Motherhood is telling their 4 year old trying to make sense of death, of his beautiful sister's death. It is then getting the kids ready for school and consoling Evey who is no longer happy and is now saying that Bryanna is not part of our team anymore. She is so sad and hurt by not having Bryanna, her best friend, next to her to annoy her at breakfast. It's easy to sit and reminiscence and smile while we look at the pictures. It's easy to talk about what we did at certain events together. But, it's really really super hard the second we don't any more. The second that reality hits and they remember that Bryanna will never ever come home to them. It is a cold splash of water on their face when we have to remind ourselves that we can't visit Bryanna in the hospital anymore, and that no, we can't see her body. Evey really wants to just go to the place that is keeping her body. To see her and to talk to her. To find peace and to find closure. Death doesn't give the survivors what they want. We can't find peace by looking at her body, by seeing a casket or cremation box go into the ground. If anything, it's harder. Because you don't get to see the silly faces, the permanent marker make up jobs, the skits, the messy faces after a meals. You don't get to hear the sweet voice saying Mommy, or the irritated voice telling Evey or Liam to give her space. This too is motherhood. It is the dark side that very few talk about. It is knowing that I am going to wake up every day knowing that I am getting Evey and Liam through their morning, through their day without Bryanna. Motherhood right now is knowing that Cancer took my baby away at only 9 years old. Motherhood for so many moms is that realization that you cannot take the pain away, you cannot kiss the boo boo away and no amount of medicine can bring your baby back to you.

Motherhood is knowing that I can call my mom when I see the foundation laid on her grave site in preparation for her headstone and cry to tell her that they got cement all over her flowers and grave site, to cry that the flowers were all over the ground and her puppy angel moved. Other than disposing of the damaged flowers and rearranging the puppy angel, notes, gifts and flowers so they were just so, there was nothing I could do in that moment as we were leaving town. Motherhood is my mom rallying my dad and they went over and scraped off the cement from her markers in the ground, it's cleaning up the cement around the foundation and making sure puppy angel and all the beautiful gifts were still secured. Motherhood is sending her daughter a photo to assure her while she is away that Bryanna was still being taken care of. That while I could not be there to clean up her resting spot, it had been taken care of.

Motherhood is a bond that whether you like it or not you cannot get away from. Honestly, I don't know why anyone would want to. It's a sisterhood of understanding. It's knowing that you can tell your mom, sister, girlfriend that you got puked on in the mouth, in the face and pretty much were in survival mode and they don't judge. They just say...yup, been there done that. Don't get me wrong. Dad's are pretty damn great. I was raised by an amazing dad who would do anything for anyone of us at a drop of a dime. I am married to a man that always will be there for his kids no matter what. We may have our struggles, but he will always be there.  There's no denying the many dad's out their who pull their weight. We all do this together.

We do this together, because at the end of the day, it's just too hard to do alone.  I remember the evening around 5pm on August 3rd when I was told that Bryanna had Leukemia. The doctors cried with me. Just like when 9/11 happened, everyone knew what they were doing in the precise moment that they learned Bryanna's fate. They assured me that everyone would do absolutely everything to make Bryanna well again. I remember calling Mike because he had gone home shortly before the diagnosis was given. I remember calling my parents, my sister. My parents came shortly after just to sit with us. I remember every little crappy thing that happened along the way. The day we said goodbye to Bryanna, my mom sat behind me holding her knees ever so gently against me so that I wouldn't fall out of the bed as I laid next to Bryanna and Mike sat on the other side holding her with me. My mom and dad stood beside us as Mike and I had to ID her body at the funeral home, they helped arrange all the celebrations and find only the best roses for her funeral. They went out of their way to find a single red rose for Mike who used to give Bryanna a red rose for valentines day.

My heart aches for the loss of Bryanna. My heart hurts knowing that Evey and Liam feels so much pain. They still have to interact at school and function like every other kid in society, yet they have to face this reality every day. They do it with more grace and heart than I think an adult can muster. I miss Bryanna so much it hurts, every single day. But being a mother will never stop. I will always be her mommy. I will always be Evey and Liam's mom and I will do the best that I can to make sure they know how loved they are by me, by Mike, by Bryanna and everyone else. I will for sure get excited about the cute handprint and note that will be given to me on mother's day as I am woken at the crack of dawn. I will for sure look at the mother's day note/picture that is on my wall that Bryanna gave me last year. Just like every single day since October 24 of last year, I will get through another day. I will get through Mother's day. Bryanna would want me to. Evey and Liam need me to. I will not let this darkness take the honor of being a mom away from me. Even if I have to take a moment and breathe.

 I know it can be hard to find words that might ease my pain. Please know that I know this, and there is no denying that. I know some may not want to share fun news...but please do. I may not always feel social and talkative, but know that I truly appreciate your company.  Sometimes, the band of friends, of mothers, of dads, of kids...they make the toughest days of being a mom into something so wonderful.

Hug your babies because tomorrow is never guaranteed.

When Brothers Step up to be Sisters when they are needed the most

One in five children who have Cancer will not survive.

 ONE in FIVE children who HAVE CANCER will NOT SURVIVE.

 That's the potent line in a St. Judes commercial depicting children fighting the fight of their life. The parents are interviewed and are heard saying that the feeling of not knowing if your child will survive is terrible. The first child who is interviewed has leukemia. She looks very sick. She is fighting so hard to survive - I sincerely hope that she does. I can't get through these commercials without crying. They don't make me mad like the happy commercials - they make me so sad. I know, it's a not very positive or optimistic of me to critique every one of these commercials. But here's the thing- I have been on every side of that. I didn't used to be a cancer mom. I would pause and reflect on how thankful I was that my kids didn't have to face such devastation...and then I would carry on with my day 30 seconds later when the commercial ended. But I then became a cancer mom in an instant when the doctor took me into a room with two other doctors whom I never met, sat me down while holding my hand and told me "I'm so sorry to tell you, but Bryanna has cancer. She has Leukemia." I  know what it feels like to be told the next day that she has AML which has a 80 percent survival rate. I remember Mike saying...but that's horrible. That means 2 out of 10 children will die. What do we have to do to make sure that's not Bryanna? Then we found out they were wrong, it was T-Cell ALL...which was even better...90% survival rate...then they realized it was so much more serious...after over a week of lab research from the brightest minds at childrens National and St. Judes they found it was ETP-ALL. This carried a 30% survival rate. That's 7 out of 10 children will not survive. That means only 3 out of 10 children will. When they do survive, they are not free of worry or illness, more often than not, they have secondary cancer caused by the treatment they were getting to battle the first cancer. Often times they cannot bear children and have many different struggles as they carry on with their daily life. If they survive.
One in Five children will not survive cancer. Bryanna was that ONE. Bryanna had less than a 30% chance of survival because she not only had one of the toughest forms of leukemia, but she had a mutated gene on top of that. One that to date does not have much research due to how rare it was. Four out of Five children WILL survive. For those kids, I am so very thankful that you have been given the strength to fight. I am so thankful that you were able to beat this awful disease and I pray that you continue to stay strong.

For the past couple of days, I have been dealing with a brutal cold....body aches, congestion, exacerbated asthma...you know...the whole gamut. Yet, all I can think about is when I felt my worst, I know that it never ever came close to what Bryanna was feeling on her good days. She fought so hard to get through each day with the most excruciating pain. Pain that opioids couldn't take away.  Nothing about cancer is good. It causes so much pain and suffering to so many people. I can't wait for the day that the commercial says Five out of Five children WILL SURVIVE Cancer. I just wish Bryanna had also been one of the survivors that could share her story.

As we sit at dinner and Evey tells us some of the struggles she has had at school...I watch both Evey and Liam. I watch how they interact with each other during these difficulties and I think back to when we had similar conversations with Bryanna at the table. Evey used to listen so intently at Bryanna's struggles and then try to give her advice...and comfort.  As Liam so wisely and calmly told Evey to "Calm down and take a deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth", as he demonstrated ever so calmly, and touched her arm to get her to calmly focus, I couldn't help be so incredibly proud of the little people my kids have developed into. As I struggle with this cold (which after everything my kids have gone through, I have no place to complain), I have lost my voice. This is surely a win for the world...and I thought for the kids. Yet, rather than taking advantage of that, they were so helpful and so concerned. Evey wanted to be my voice - she even called from the other room this morning when I was talking to Liam..."I told you not to use your voice. You have to rest it mom! Stop talking!". Then when she got home she asked if I spoke today and when I said I did a little...she told me in a very serious tone "I'm really disappointed with you. You have to take care of your voice so you can get better." Liam them follows with..."ya mom...so disappointed". The amount of heart, caring and love that these kids have to take care of me, when it's my job to take care of them, even if it is to tell me to stop yapping to protect my voice, it's just wise beyond their years and makes my heart sing (as Bryanna used to say). It touches me so deeply. How did I get so lucky to have kids that have weathered a few of the worst storms imaginable...and yet they still carry on. Today marks 2 years that we had that apartment fire. It marks two years since Levi alerted me to the fire and I had to make a split decision on how we got out of our home. It marks two years that we lost all of our furniture, our pictures, toys, clothes, underwear, shoes, kids artwork and pretty much everything. It marks two years that I lost all of Bryanna's things she had for the first 7 years of her life. All the things that I would have loved to have had to look at today. Yet here we are...focusing on the now, the tomorrow. Focusing on taking care of each other...focusing on our team...not our trauma.


I think back about the funny things of parenting - of the things you just look back and say...wait what?! It's these moments that really make me smile. Like the time when Liam was doing his thing, and Bryanna and Evey were tired and cranky after a long day at school and were fighting. I'm talking about an all out screaming, yelling, crying, not even rational type of fighting. Meanwhile, I'm trying to get dinner together while doing the dishes. A person can only take so much of that fighting before imagining locking themselves in a bathroom with a big bag of chocolate, 20 packs of oreos and gallon of milk. I'm not even talking about taking the time to bring a cup to dunk the oreos in. No, when you are at your wits ends, you just want to breathe and you will drink out of that jug of milk, after all you're taking one for the team...well, you are being one away from the team, so you tell yourself you are taking one for the team in that moment. Then you snap back to reality and you realize if you don't intervene in this escalating fight between two little girls, then world war three will break out resulting in lots more tears...and well, you already ate the chocolate and oreos so you can't offer that so you better make it right quick. So,  naturally, I jump in after hearing Bryanna and Evey yell that they aren't sharing their unicorns. I like to be fair of course, so I say...at my wits end of course (mind you, liam is crashing his cars, dinner's cooking, the sink of dishes are still screaming at me and I am dreaming of a quite bathroom with my 20 packs of oreos and a gallon of milk)..."you use the unicorn first and then you share it with you sister who will use it after. If you guys have a problem with that, NO ONE WILL GET TO USE THE UNICORN!" Well, that sure got their attention. I guess it made sense, because the fighting stopped. I felt quite accomplished and got back to my dinner making and dish cleaning activities feeling like I was a master at this parenting thing. Then it hit me. This was not a toy they were talking about. This was not a stuffed animal. This was not a drawing. Bryanna and Evey were fighting over an IMAGINARY unicorn. Let that really sink in for a second.  The least I could have done was given each girl their own unicorn at that point. Not sure who won, the girls or their imaginary unicorn. I was back to dreaming of my 20 packs of oreos and my gallon of milk...but the unicorn flew away with it.

I miss those silly stupid parenting moments that having three kids brought. There is a lot less chaos these days. I'm sure Evey and Liam will build up to it, and I'm sure they are waiting to unleash the mayhem...but I sure miss the girl fights. The fights about Evey not letting Bryanna sleep because she had the power to keep her awake by talking, the fights about Bryanna not letting Evey know where she kept her most important things...you know...the sisterly fights. Fights about who gets to ride the unicorns first.  Instead of sisterly rivalry, Evey now gets sad when she sees the Disney junior commercials with sisters singing the "sister sister" song from Elena of Avelor. But Liam steps right up to let her know that he is 'happy to be her sister'. We will figure things out. Yes, we are the family that had that One in Five children...but we will fight our own fight to make sure we get through this, even if we have to share our one unicorn along the way and brothers have to be sisters, even for a little bit.

Bryanna, Evey and Liam always hung out together and always had each other's back. Who would have ever have thought that Bryanna would die from cancer, Evey would be sad that she "no longer has a sister here" and Liam would tell her "I'll be your sister". 

Four out of Five children have to pick up the pieces and figure out how they now fit into their new family dynamics. One of Five children don't get a say anymore.