I took my twin sons, both fighting stage 4 cancer, to see the ocean and fulfill their greatest — and perhaps LAST — I WISH… 🥺But then the hotel manager knocked on our door and said, “There’s something about this journey that you don’t know.”

And he never called us again.

I thought nothing worse could happen to our family.

Five months later, in the same hospital, the doctor sat down in front of him again for the second time.

This time I had Ben’s results in his hands.

As soon as I saw the expression on his face, I understood it before I said a single word.

Ben had cancer, too.

My two sons.

My twins.

Born the same day, inseparable throughout his life and now fighting against the same terrible disease.

It felt like our house had moved to the hospital.

When Lily was receiving chemotherapy, Ben would sit next to her.

When Ben felt bad, Lily held her hand.

The only person who helped us was my father, George.