My uncle is very sick. He has a brain tumor. He has cancer. They removed it a few weeks ago and recommended chemo and radiation, however, as the stubborn man that he, he refused. Now, as of yesterday, we know that the tumor has returned and even almost doubled in size. He NOW is accepting the fact that he needs chemo patches, radiation, and medication. I do not usually feel too much sadness for family sickness. It's more distant. It's not my immediate family. It doesn't hurt as bad. However, this time, it's a little different. It's one of my father's brothers. It's an uncle who I lived with when I moved to Miami. It's an uncle that I consider a second father. It's an uncle who is the father to the cousins whom I am closest to. So it IS scary. It IS worrisome. And it IS concerning me. It's sad. Not only am I worried for him, but I'm worried for his wife who I really consider a mother figure. I'm worried for his sons and daughters who I am very close to and really consider my sisters and brothers.
I visited my uncle yesterday. He is doing ok; a little "out of it". He's a strong man who I know will fight a bitter fight. He's not one to give up easily. So I am hoping for the best.
When I visited him, I went to the same hospital where I lost Jack, where I had Samantha, and where my father spent many days. It was a mix of such different emotions that I can not even put them into words. That hospital is such a bittersweet place for me. It brings me such joy but at the same time such sadness.
March has arrived. The year is already slipping by. Yes, it's only the 3rd month of 2014 but it's already the 3rd month of 2014. I can't believe it. Before we know it, we will be celebrating Samantha's 2nd birthday and Jack's 3rd. I look around and everyone's lives are moving on and moving forward. Our family's life included. But back there, in the back of my mind, in the core of my soul, and in my heart, Jack is always lingering. People don't bring him up as much anymore, Sean and I don't talk about him everyday like we used to, and our lives continue to move on. However, I still belong to that day. October 3, 2011. It's still engrained in my mind and carved into my heart. I'm doing OK. I can say that I lost my son and not cry. When I talk about Jack, my heart warms and my stomach does a little turn but the tears don't fall. But a part of me is still stuck on that day. It will always be where a piece of me remains. That piece of me can NEVER move forward, it can never go towards the future, it can never forget. That piece of me is still sobbing at the sight of a flat line. That piece of me is still in shock. That piece of me still feels the heaviness of my dead baby inside of me. 
We really can not catch a break in our little family. A week ago, Sean was in the emergency for kidney stones that he has yet to pass. And yesterday evening we rushed to the ER with Samantha because she fell off her slide (a SMALL slide at that) and landed on her arm in a bad way. After MANY X-rays to make sure to get the perfect picture of her elbow, it turns out Samantha broke her arm. My 18 month old daughter now has a bright pink cast on her left arm. Her screams after her fall killed me, her screams at the hospital made me sob. All I did was ask Jack to watch over his baby sister and make sure she was ok. When they said possible surgery, I said to Jack "please not that". Nurses and technicians looked at me crying and were concerned because they had to make her suffer by moving her around for the X-rays. I told them I know they had to, but her cries KILLED me and made me just let tears roll. Sean was amazing and held onto her the entire time helping them with the positions.
