Yesterday
Yesterday Max turned 9 years old, just a couple weeks under 9 years removed from sitting on deaths door fighting for every breath. From the doctors looking at us and telling us he had a 5% chance to live (and that was being generous). 8 1/2 years from his first brain surgery when they began to unfold the journey that we were about to embark on. A bit over 6 years since they looked at us and told us Max had 6 months to live. All these yesterdays are woven together to create a beautiful tapestry. The tapestry of a life unknown, a life redefined. Countless yesterdays are connected unfolding a beautiful narrative. One of tragedy and triumph, of despair and hope. These yesterdays collide to paint the days like fireworks across the moonlit sky. 

The thing about yesterdays is that what they are and what they are can change as they filter through time. The moments of darkness become the foundation for the sweetest joy. The moments of complete despair can give way to limitless hope. With Max these yesterdays will always remain impactful and powerful, but the emotions they evoke have changed over time.  

My son was set on a trajectory 9 years ago. That trajectory was not what I had hoped or dreamed, that trajectory was a far cry from the range of normalcy that we expect when our kids are born. Max has been on the ropes more than once, like a boxer desperately trying to keep himself in the fight. Traveling miles of fluorescent lit hallways, spending countless hours within hospital room after hospital room I have come to truly know what ‘fighting’ looks like. Words like perseverance and tenacity have new meaning. Max has spent 9 years defying the odds, I’ve just been along for the ride.