There are stories you live through, and then there are stories that live through you. Mine is the latter—a puzzle pieced together by love, loss, hope, and the unexpected moments that tie it all together. When I began navigating this journey, I didn’t realize how many of the pieces were already set into motion long before I even knew what the picture was supposed to look like.
This memoir is not just about my son Kingston, his courage, or the brutal reality of pediatric cancer, although he is the heartbeat that echoes throughout these pages. It’s about how he changed me—how he cracked my heart wide open, forced me to face my pain, and, in the process, gave me new eyes to see life’s magic. Kingston’s strength became my own, his wisdom guiding me when I felt most lost. He left behind a trail of signs, showing me how to live with intention, grace, and yes, even chaos.
In writing this, I’ve come to realize that our life has been anything but a straight path. It has been a mess—a beautiful, raw, uncontrollable mess. For years, I struggled to balance the roles of caregiver, advocate, mother, and woman trying to keep herself from shattering under the weight of it all. I’ve been bruised and broken in ways I never thought possible, but also lifted and healed by the power of love, both seen and unseen. Kingston was our glue, the light that refused to be dimmed, even when the world around us seemed impossibly dark. He had a way of creating magic amidst chaos, leaving behind pieces of himself that will forever guide us.
As I write this story, I find myself experiencing an awakening I never expected. It’s as though, with each word I put to paper, I am unraveling layers of myself that had been hidden beneath the years of caregiving, advocating, and fighting for Kingston’s life. I became a warrior out of necessity, running on instinct and sheer willpower. But now, in the quiet spaces between the memories I’m recounting, I am beginning to see a deeper truth about who I am and what this journey has meant.
This awakening is not some sudden epiphany but a gradual unfolding—a process of piecing together the parts of my life that were scattered in the chaos. I am starting to see how all the moments—the pain, the love, the heartbreak, the tiny victories—have woven themselves into the person I am becoming. Kingston lived his life with such a pure, unfiltered wisdom, showing me how to find joy and magic in the messiness of our reality. As I write, I realize that his lessons weren’t just about surviving; they were about truly living, even in the face of unbearable hardship.
Writing this memoir has forced me to confront parts of myself I’ve avoided for years—the guilt, the grief, the self-doubt, and the fear. But it’s also illuminating something far more profound: a strength I didn’t know I had. There’s a growing sense of acceptance within me, an acknowledgment that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. This is the awakening I am going through—a shift from merely enduring the chaos to embracing it as an integral part of who I am. It’s like learning to breathe again, but this time with a deeper understanding of my purpose and resilience.
In telling Kingston’s story, I am also telling my own. It’s a story of a mother not just fighting for her child’s life, but finding herself in the process. This awakening is about reclaiming my identity, understanding that I am not defined solely by my pain or my losses, but by the love, courage, and fierce determination that have carried me forward. It’s as if Kingston is still guiding me, reminding me to live like he did—with an open heart, fearless and full of wonder, no matter how messy or uncertain life may be.
This is a story of resilience and faith, of embracing imperfections and finding beauty in the wreckage. It’s about learning to reign over the chaos, to live with grace, and to trust that, even when life refuses to be anything but messy, you can find a way forward. Writing this, I am waking up to a new kind of strength—one that comes not from control, but from surrender. I am learning to honor every part of this journey, to see the beauty in the wreckage, and to trust that I am exactly where I am meant to be.
This is my story, our story—Kingston’s legacy and the journey of a mother learning to live like Kingston.
A gradual unfolding to learn to live like Kingston. I like how you said that. This is well seasoned food for thought. Never forget he is still in you. With you .