The whole time Marcus was sick and in the hospital, he would wake up every single day with this little smirk on his face. It was almost like he knew something I didn’t. At first I was terrified, I was afraid to be alone with my own thoughts, so I would keep busy, text or call my friends, anything to keep me from thinking about what the rest of my little boy’s life was going to look like. But every day he would wake up with that little smirk, and then just be smiling and happy all day. He got to go to school there and meet kids that were just like him, and different than him, but they were all treated the same. It truly opened my eyes to how blessed and wise my little boy had made my life. Now that I had been there many weeks, I now felt blessed, no longer on the brink of defeat.
My heart broke when I came to realize that we would be leaving Bloorview with Marcus not 100%, but even still, Marcus had awoken something in me, something I thought I didn’t have. I had always felt that if something like this were to ever happen to my child I would just curl up into a ball and cry–forever. But I didn’t, because he didn’t! How could this sweet little four-year-old boy be so brave, so strong, so wise, so sweet, so kind, and watch his mama fall apart. I would not let him see me give up, I would let him lift me up, and not be the one to bring him down.