Dear Tate

Dear Tate,

Celebrating your 18th birthday is the sweetest thing. I’m sorry you have had to fight so hard and endure so much pain. Childhood isn’t supposed to be like that.

We have always been proud of you, and never more so than now. You have kept your goals in the forefront of your mind even after a devastating diagnosis and debilitating treatment. When your friends were learning to drive you had to learn to walk again. When they left for college and missions you had to stay home to continue your treatment. We know this isn’t how you envisioned your future; no one could have prepared you (or us) for what was to come. Still, your dad and I know we are lucky because not all parents of cancer patients get to watch their children grow up.

My hopes are that you get to experience every freedom in good health and that you continue to pursue your education and your physical well-being. I pray that your good days stop being automatically laced with pain and frustration.

I’ll close with the words of Henry David Thoreau; it’s the same message that has been posted on our refrigerator for most of your life. It’s sage advice, and I hope you take the message to heart.

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined.”

Happy Birthday, Tate.

Love,

Mom

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