There are some wounds that never fully leave you.

I was only two years old when my mom was taken from this world — at the hands of my own dad. He went to prison. In a single moment, my sisters and I didn’t just lose one parent… we lost both.

My two sisters were able to stay together. I was sent somewhere else — alone.

I don’t remember my mom’s voice or her laugh. What I’ve carried is the ache of absence. The questions. The wondering why God would allow something so devastating to happen to three children.

I wrestled with that for years.

And then last year reminded me again how fragile life really is.

My 22-year-old son was suddenly diagnosed with a blood disorder and blood clots in his lung. It was terrifying. Watching your child face something like that shakes you to your core. By God’s grace, he was diagnosed properly, received treatment, and he is doing fine now.

But one month later, my wife was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

Before she could even get to her scheduled surgery, the tumor shifted. She nearly lost her life. She was life-flighted to the Cleveland Clinic and underwent emergency brain surgery.

God saved her.

Then less than four months later, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Two surgeries. Radiation. Treatments that ended in December.

Today, she is doing great.

But that stretch of months changed me.

When you’ve nearly lost your son… nearly lost your wife… you see life differently. You realize how quickly everything can change. How in a heartbeat you could lose what matters most.

Those events brought me closer to Christ in a way I can’t fully explain. Not because life became easy — but because I realized how dependent I am on Him.

It opened my eyes.

Enjoy every day. Enjoy the moments with your loved ones. Don’t hold grudges. Don’t waste time on pride.

Life is fragile. We are not promised tomorrow.

When I think about my mom now, I pray she is in paradise with Jesus — whole, restored, free from pain. I hold tightly to the promise:

I don’t have all the answers to why trauma happens. But I trust the character of God. I trust that He sees every broken child. I trust that He holds every tear. I trust that eternity is real.

One day, when my time comes, I hope to see her again — and until then, I will cherish the family God has entrusted to me right now.

Because I’ve learned something the hard way:

You can lose everything in a heartbeat.

So love deeply. Forgive quickly. Walk closely with Jesus.

He is the only thing that does not shift when everything else does.