A year in the life.

One year. Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. . . To continue my loose references to the musical ”Rent”, how do you measure a year? While there were no cups of coffee poured, tea and Dr. Pepper were served in great quantities. There were many moments of strife as well as laughter.

One year ago today, I received a phone call that changed my life as I knew it. It changed my whole Labrador family’s lives. Those who were in the know were in the know. It's only in recent months that I shared with my siblings the depth of that conversation out of sheer necessity. As I told them, it's easy to keep things under wraps being so far away physically. The words exchanged in that fateful call one year go went on to reveal whole other issues that were unbeknownst to me. Mothers, listen to your gut instincts. I, for one, will never doubt mine again.

Last year’s Thanksgiving pictures haunt me. Despair and sadness were tightly woven into the fabric of that day. The pictures that followed in subsequent months still showed some pain but hope was the more obvious and dominant state of being. 

Late Fall 2019 and early Winter 2020 was the start of Liam’s metamorphosis. Positive influences emerged in his life in the form of his first serious girlfriend. Close to nine months later, she and her family have continued to support and love him. 

Spring was a time of further renewal. While Covid-19 brought loss to Emily, Liam was able to ground himself further and open his eyes to see what was real and what truly matters. Old friendships were lost; relationships were strengthened.

Summer was a time of happy and bittersweet memories. Mere weeks following Liam’s 16th birthday, life threw us another curve ball and our family was presented with a new set of challenges.

Today, I am proud to say my second born kid is a survivor. 

He is not defined by his story or the depression that takes hold.

He is not the hateful rumours that have been spread about him in recent weeks.

He is not the self-medicating boy he was a year ago. He has worked hard to avoid being perceived further in that light. 

He is not the fear and hurt that engulfed a few years of his life. 

He is the physical embodiment of hope.

He is laughter though he can be moody at times.

He is steadfast and brave.

He is light.

He is a source of inspiration and pride.

He was always and continues to be loved more than he could ever know.

As for those who have judged and spoken ill of him or my family, take a good long look at yourselves. Nobody is perfect and I certainly have never claimed to be. You never know when it could be your child.

As for Thanksgiving 2020, my pictures will tell a different narrative. Smiles, hope, and a love deep and true will be reflected. How grateful I am for those who have been and continue to be on this journey. Hardships come and go. Though sleepless nights are plenty and tears flow freely, I cannot be defined by them. As the old adage goes, I laugh in the places I have cried to change the narrative.  Good times and bad times will continue to reveal how truly blessed I am.