Today, three years ago, our hope died. We had spent the past twenty-four hours waiting for the last test to be done, which was going to determine if there was any response coming from Liam's brain. There wasn't.
Deep inside, we both knew it already but hope is stubborn and will hold on for as long as it can.
Especially when the alternative is your world falling apart.
Yesterday, I wrote that the third of September was the worst day of my life. The truth is that the fourth was just as bad. It was the day hope died and with it, a piece of me.
There's a lot of quotes revolving around hope. How everything is possible, as long as there's hope. And stories. Amazing underdog stories on how people have pulled through, just because they didn't give up hope. So what do you do when hope dies? Because there's one thing that can kill hope.
It's called reality.
This is what you do: You take a look around you, and you see your world and your heart lying on the floor, shattered. You pick them up, piece by piece. You will get cut on the pieces and it will hurt but you must not stop. Because the more pieces you manage to pick up, the better of a foundation you will have. As you start puzzling the pieces together, a glue will appear that will hold the pieces in place. The glue is called hope. Because hope can be killed by reality and it can stay dead but if you work hard at it, you can bring hope back to life.
I'm not able to bring my son back but I have been able to bring back hope. That hope has turned a small flame into a raging fire. A fire that is, and will continue, to help others.
Yesterday, we lit a candle for you Liam. And as my friend from The Sisu Way Podcast said: A candle loses nothing lighting another candle. Nothing is stolen. Light is shared and it helps us all see better.
I know your candle will continue to light many fires and I hope my story helps breed hope.