I wrote this on September 30, 2025. Grace was pregnant. We were moving. I could no longer climb the stairs on my own. And somehow, in the middle of all of that, our village threw us a baby shower.
Lizzy is here now. She arrived into the most extraordinary village a child could ever be born into. Reading this back, knowing how it all unfolded, I am undone by it in the best possible way.
This is what that season looked like from the inside.
Originally written on September 30, 2025
As our dear brother Garrett reminded us: “As we wait for a miracle to come along, let’s not forget the one we have been given.”
Thank you for that, my brother. I needed to hear it. We needed to hear it.
Last Saturday was magical — a perfect example of our village lifting us up. We cannot thank enough Michelle, Julie, Emilie, Filsy, Daisy, Kelly, and Kath for working hard to get this celebration together. The baby shower allowed us to take a break from our lives and simply celebrate our pregnancy. It may not always seem like it, but we are truly living yesterday’s prayers. There’s no reason to think that today’s prayers will not be answered tomorrow. We have a healthy baby on the way. We have family and friends who love us and support us. What more can we want? We are so blessed to have such a wonderful village surrounding us during this storm. The shower reminded us of the miracle we have already been given.
Our friend Jordan flew into Chicago for a long layover — from an Army base in Texas, en route home to Anchorage — just to spend time with us. He’s a soldier, a commander, a medic, and a critical care nurse. He spent three hours Saturday morning taking care of me. And then, at the shower, he said something I haven’t stopped thinking about: we are all truly in service of each other.
That’s what love is. That’s how I see it too.
This year has been entirely about surrendering. Letting go.
What I once thought was about holding onto dignity — I now understand is really about finding new ways to love Grace.
Friends have brushed my teeth. Shaved me. Bathed me. Fed me. Lifted me to the toilet and back. Carried me up and down the stairs. And every time they do, I am giving Grace a break from doing it all herself.
That’s not losing dignity. That’s love. That’s our miracle. That’s our village.
“We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves.” — Romans 15:1
Paul isn’t writing about charity here — he’s writing about the nature of community itself. Strength exists to serve. My friends aren’t helping me out of pity. They’re fulfilling exactly what they were built to do. And I, by receiving it, am letting them be who they are.
It Takes a Village
The care and service we’ve received have been overwhelming in the best of ways. This list is far from exhaustive — there are so many more family and friends who have been showing up. This is just who I could think of off the top of my head.
- Meals & errands: Eve, Sara, Melanie, Emily, Jess, Daisy, Chelsea, Susan, Julie, KK, and Dana bringing food or cooking for us. Jess handling grocery runs. Dana cleaning the ventilator and BiPAP accessories.
- Packing & moving: One weekend, friends from across the country packed up half our home — Tad, Steve & Jenn, Ryan, the Kempers, Alex and Otis. Another weekend, Dru, Derek, Tammy, Sean, Char, Jess, Anil, Cullen, Stephen, and Juan loaded trucks and carried everything into storage.
- Heavy lifting: Sean, EJ, Vamshi, and DaveRisner picked up and hauled the hospital bed and the Hoyer lift.
- Carrying me: DaveRisner, Dru, Sean, Jay, Derek, EJ, and Jordan have literally carried me upstairs and down — sometimes with a gait belt, sometimes with a sheet, sometimes by lifting the wheelchair itself. It is truly remarkable what these guys have figured out just to take care of me.
- Special recognition to my family for their constant encouragement — especially both our moms and our dad. For George & Kathleen and Rupal & Alpesh dropping everything to help us. Bess flying in so often to take the lead on everything. And the constant, encouraging texts from Jules, Dolly, Betsy, Noby, Priya, and everyone else.
The GoFundMe has been overwhelming. Every day I look at it and I am overcome. The financial weight of what we are facing is real and it is constant. Full-time care. A wheelchair accessible van. These aren’t small things. And every single contribution is felt.
People have flown in from across the country — even across the world — just to serve us.
I went from someone who ran up and down the stairs for exercise — to someone who climbed them one painful step at a time — to someone who cannot take them at all. That progression happened in months. Not years. Months.
“And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.” — John Steinbeck, East of Eden
Steinbeck wrote that line about moral freedom — about what happens when you stop performing and start living. I spent my whole life running up those stairs. Now I let people carry me up them. That’s not a lesser version of Cecil. That might be the truest one yet.
My Hero, Grace
Through all of this, I marvel at my wife. Grace is the toughest, strongest, most powerful person I know. Moving is incredibly stressful. Being pregnant is stressful. Being in your third trimester is even more so. Caring for a husband with a devastating disease is beyond stressful. Any one of those things could take a normal person down. Grace carries all of them together, every single day. I don’t know how she does it. She is my hero. We talked about superheroes the night we first met. Not one of them holds a candle to her.
Grace said something to a friend recently that I think could apply to every single person in our village:
“There are days when we wonder what tomorrow will bring, especially as Cecil’s health continues to decline, and each day feels so different. But we no longer feel fear, even if another miracle doesn’t come, because we know we are not alone — you are our village. Your constant prayers and love give us strength. We love you dearly.”
That’s exactly how we feel. We are not alone. We are lifted by our village, by your prayers, and by the miracle already here.
Secret of My SucCecil 