Nothing worthwhile is ever easy. There are no shortcuts.

I love you,’ I whisper in his ear.No response.‘I love you.’Nothing.‘I love you, Sam.’My silent treatment had been reinstated.

But I do know. I know Sam is going to die. I know his death is meant to be. And I know that someday, I’ll be alright again. But I’m sure as hell not gonna tell his mother this.

But you know, an old-fashioned Jesus-raising-the-dead style miracle would be lovely right now.

But Sam had always said that coming home to me at the end of every shift was his top priority. So what went wrong?

For what’s the point of there being a purpose if it remains unknown?

But how could Sam be in a parade at the Happiest Place on Earth one week, and his own funeral procession the next?

Respect isn’t granted,’ Sam had repeatedly reminded me, ‘it must be earned.

Let’s go big or go home,’ I say to him, ‘just like Vegas.