December 8th: Three Years.

Three years ago today, our lives split into a before and an after.

At the time, we couldn’t have imagined what the coming days, months, and years would hold. We didn’t yet have language for the grief, the uncertainty, or the long road ahead. We just knew that nothing would ever be the same.

What we couldn’t see then was this: change doesn’t only bring loss. Sometimes it also brings resilience, perspective, community, and a deeper understanding of love.

Over the last three years, we’ve learned to celebrate things we once took for granted. We’ve learned patience in ways we never wanted to. We lost our dad. We have accepted that most motor skills just won't come back.

Today isn’t a celebration, but it can be an acknowledgment of survival and a nod to so many who don't survive an accident like this... while pondering if we would have rather lived through it (or not) given the same circumstances.

It’s a day to hold space for both the pain of what was lost and the pride in how far Mike has come. It’s a reminder that there will never be a “back to normal."

We are endlessly grateful to the doctors, therapists, caregivers, friends, and family who have shown up in ways big and small. To the people who asked questions, come for visits, listened without trying to fix, and stayed when things were hard. Along the way there have also been hard and unexpected lessons on who is and is not in your tribe when things get hard.

And to Mike: your resilience continues to inspire us. Your story matters. Your effort matters. You matter.

Three years in, we know there’s still more ahead. Healing continues. Growth continues. So does hope.

Today, we pause to reflect, to honor this anniversary, and to recommit ourselves to advocacy, awareness, and compassion—for Mike, for others living with traumatic brain injuries, and for the families who love them.

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for holding space with us.