If you know my brother Tommy and Nga, you know they would never ask for help like this. Not in a million years.

They are the ones who show up. The ones who host. The ones who bring the boat, the laughter, the chaos, the life. Tommy is the most hands-on dad I know. Nga is steady, strong, and the kind of mom who makes everything feel safe.

Right now, they’re in a fight none of us saw coming.

Nga’s cancer has metastasized to her spinal fluid. She now has a port placed into her brain so doctors can deliver chemotherapy directly into the fluid surrounding her brain and spine. It’s aggressive. It’s serious. And it’s the only way to fight this.

Some days are heavy. Some days are hopeful. We are learning to measure life in 24-hour increments.

This week alone, we’ve watched her battle nausea, intense pain, spinal pressure, and the emotional toll of it all. We’ve also seen small victories — fluid removed relieving pressure, pain easing, treatment completed. In this season, we cling to those wins.

At home waiting for their mom are two boys who need their parents steady right now.

Tommy is 10.

Michael is 2.

Both of their birthdays are in March.

And while most families are planning cake and candles, this family is navigating hospital rooms, chemo schedules, and uncertainty.

Tommy will never stop fighting for Nga.

Nga will never stop fighting for her boys.

But the financial weight of this kind of medical battle — the travel, the time off work, the unknowns — is real. And they would never ask for help on their own. So I’m asking for them.

If you feel led to give, to share, or simply to pray, it matters. Every bit of support helps create space for them to focus on what truly matters right now: healing, presence, and their boys.

We are taking this one day at a time.

Thank you for standing with them.