I begged him to tell me. He wouldn't. My parents were hosting their annual Halloween bash that night, he "didn't want to dampen our spirits". Finally, he called and my world crashed down.
Brandin begged me not to tell my mom. There was nothing that could be done at that point, and he just wanted her to enjoy her night. So I put on my best fake smile and didn't say a word that night. The next day Brandin called and asked if we all would go get family pictures taken with them and Olivia. That's when my mom started questioning what was going on.
And he told her. Standing on the sidewalk outside the photography studio, on that cold October afternoon. All the doctors really said was that things didn't look good. That it came back. That it had spread.
Except, she's got the same blood that my grandfather has, her papaw, who has fought countless heart attacks, the same stubborn blood that pumps through all our veins.
And here we are another eight months and countless chemotherapy and radiation treatments later, with hearts full of hope. Because today, today is the day she starts her very last (God willing, EVER) chemo treatment.
Every doctors visit will bring clinched hands and tense thoughts, but there's no doubt in my mind this little kiddo is a fighter. She is my niece after all, and if someone tells us we don't want to hear, we're going to fight it with all our might!