It was a year ago when Carly, 11 at the time, was wondering out loud what our future looked like. Four days later we were told for the third time in just as many months, that there was nothing left to do to help BJ. We were sent home after 90 straight days in the hospital. Disappointed but still hopeful, we loved each other just as fiercely as we always had, and lived each day like it could be the last one. We still talked about everything and joked and laughed and prayed together and still had pancakes on his last two Saturday mornings. Doctors expected that BJ would die soon. We kept our faith in God's plan, a much bigger plan than our own, and we still have faith in his plan even today. Good things will come together from the outcome we didn't want. I've already witnessed that, even through the pounding ache of my grief for my son.
We were at home together for 15 days before BJ died, two days after his 15th birthday.
No one knows what their future picture looks like. Love, and love fiercely while you still can. To be able to truly love fiercely, get to know the One who fiercely died, because of his fierce love for you.