Its hard.

Sometimes all you can do is hope.

When you’ve hit the cold gray stones of rock bottom and nothings going right, all you can do is hope.

When life takes a wrong turn down that bumpy dirt path instead of the smooth paved highway, all you can do is hope.

When you look at us you see a family.

Were strong like a brick wall, bonded together by the cement that is our genes.

You see the maniac parties we throw and the good times we have together teasing and giggling.

But what you don’t see is the fear that soon we will be one less and soon we will be making plans to place her little body under the green grass and warm dirt.

When you look at us you see a powerful force, as strong as the allies in World War II.

Four cousins,:all brunettes, one brown eyed, and three blue, trying not to be afraid.

All the aunts and uncles, holding their fear coated breath but pretending to be strong.

The grandparents, wise and caring but knowing that not everything works out in the end.

But what you don’t see are the nights that our force is breaking down, sobbing until the morning.

Were not like other families because we've been cursed.

Cursed with the shaking, the aching, and the little girl taking.

Its not fair to us and its not fair to her but there's only one thing that we can do.

Hope.

When her frail body is sitting in your lap, limp and wordless

and all of a sudden she starts convulsing, and loses control

and its taken over by the electricity in her brain, there's only one thing you can do,

Hope.

When she turns five years old and has to be fed her birthday cake through a tube.

Or that moment that you realize that she wont ever say those three words that everyone longs to hear 'I love you'

And when you become aware of the fact that shell never race towards you and jump into your arms because shes strapped into a metal chair with big black wheels, only one thought comes to mind.

Hope.

When she has to move her eyes to the pre-programed pictures on the device made to let us hear her thoughts just to “say” one simple word in the voice of a woman ten times older than she is,

or when she cries for hours on end and you ask why with no response but the salty wet tears rolling out from her eyes.

And even when you’re awoken at two am to hear her precious infectious giggle for no reason except for the fact that her brain doesn't work, you're thinking one thought,

Hope.

We hope for the cure, spending countless afternoons helping to fund it

so we can have her back. So shell be free from the trap we call her body.

We hope for one more day, and instead of looking to the future we look to tomorrow

and hope she makes it through the night and keeps up with this fight.

We do the things for her that she cant do for herself.

The talking, the walking, the eating or even the greeting.

Were stronger than we look and more fragile than we seem.

But we all have the same reason to live, Emma.