July 19, 2018
Dear Meatball & Rooster,
One of life’s most precious gifts is that it is fleeting. Everything you’ve ever known can change in a second, a minute, or just a few hours.
On Sunday, June 24th, 2018, I had a seizure on our kitchen floor, right in front of you while you were playing together with Play-Doh, and was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. We found out hours later that I have tumors in my brain, ear canal, and spinal cord, and they’re beginning to show symptoms, requiring surgery.
While this is all very new and scary, my decision to move forward with the surgery is intentional, and I’m doing it because of my love for you. I have so much to fight for, and I need you to know that I am doing this because YOU are worth it.
As the days have passed, and we draw nearer to surgery, we’ve had the unique opportunity to look at life through a new lens. Everything is different, and yet nothing has really changed at all; we simply have knowledge that we didn’t before June 24th and a diagnosis that wasn’t there before.
I’ve never taken our time for granted, but still each moment seems sweeter now, and its an incredible blessing to experience life this way.
The little things are the big things; watching you sleep, and imagining all of the things you’ll accomplish in your lifetime; taking you to a baseball game; holding your little hand as long as you’ll let me; teaching you to ride bikes; and hearing you giggle. I find myself staring at you often, trying to capture each memory and hold onto it forever.
My prayer is that one day this will all be a distant memory; a thing that happened; a chapter that has closed. Although you are both intuitive, I know that you are too young to remember all of the details of these pivotal moments. But, your daddy and I will remember, and when you’re ready, we will remind you of how these days unfolded, and why we made the choices we did.
I want so badly for this to be a story of strength and triumph that will inspire you to live your best life without fear of the unknown. I want to watch you grow up, and face your own challenges head on. I want for you to see that life is a beautiful thing that should never be taken for granted.
We are never promised tomorrow, and we need to make each day count. There are things that are within our control, and things that we have to leave to faith. So, for now, I am simply trusting that God’s plan is the same as mine.
If there is one thing I can weave within these words and capture here for you forever, it would be my undying, unrelenting, neverending love for you. It is something truly tangible that you have the ability to carry with you long after I’ve left this earth.
Please, don’t ever doubt the power of a mother’s love for her children.
I love you all the stars in the sky; I love you all the angels in heaven; I love you all of the leaves on all of the trees; I love you all of the fish in the sea; I love you all the raindrops in the ocean; I love you all of the miles to the moon and right back down again.
6 thoughts on “A letter to my sons, written the night before brain surgery”
You are in my thoughts .
You are truly an amazing woman. The more I read your blog, the more my love grows for you. I’m so glad we are co-workers and friends. You truly inspire me, to think of so many things. I’m so blessed you’ve come into my life. Love and prayers to you and your sweet family. 💜💜🙏🙏😘
Beautifully said. As horrible as NF2 is, the one gift is that we see life through a different lens… and that makes all the difference in the world.❤️
I feel your heart, your love, God’s blessings. I love you rain drops in the ocean .❤️
Stay Strong Megan Bugle !! Your LOVE for those babies and Josh..and your Faith in God..along with ALL of the prayers from friends and Family will carry you thru..God has plans for you and your strength to guide others