Horn Family Update #2

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

- Matthew 5:4

It’s been a busy few days.

(Probably the understatement of the century. Ha.)

My goal has been to share updates as I have them, and after we’ve had the opportunity to process them with our boys. Here is the update from Wednesday’s surgery and the days since:

Hilary spent around seven hours in surgery. The surgeons were able to remove most of the tumor on the left side of her frontal lobe. Some of the tumor is more insular and located near key areas of the brain responsible for language, so they intentionally left that portion. Overall, the updates have been encouraging.

Forty-eight hours later, Hilary is slowly becoming more herself. She has slept a lot and experienced some confusion, which is to be expected. Even so, she’s one of the strongest people I know, and she’s shown that in spades. By every indication, she is progressing just as the doctors hoped.

Before I say more, I want to share a special thank you. The outpouring of support has been more than we ever dared imagine. From Fort Worth to Eugene to our community in Kenmore, people have been sending love, support, and the sweetest messages.

We have been held together by late-night prayers, family dropping everything at a moment’s notice to help, kind texts from friends near and far, players I've had the privilege of coaching—past and present—reaching out, and thoughtful gifts left on our porch. This overwhelming love has surrounded us and sustained us through a difficult time.

So many of you have also stepped in with meals, childcare, errands, and countless other practical ways to help. It has honestly felt like far too much—in the best way possible.

“Everyone is just waiting.”

— Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

I recognize some of you are probably curious about what’s next. Honestly, this may be the toughest question to answer, and one we’ve tried to be careful in communicating.

At this current juncture, the cancer board at the University of Washington will review the samples from the brain tumor that was removed. From what’s been communicated, within the next two weeks we’ll receive an “official” prognosis, which will lead to a clearer direction for the months ahead.

(I’ve also been forewarned by a friend that we’ll likely get the MyChart results before the doctor contacts us…and not to just stick the results into ChatGPT. Probably some wisdom there for most things.)

I’ll admit: the waiting is the hardest part. It’s one thing to know exactly what obstacle our family is facing. It’s another to sit in the liminal space of not knowing—for what feels like forever. As my oldest, who’s 10, shared one night before bed: “Dad, it’s hard to not think about all the things that could go wrong.”

Like his mom, he’s braver than I am. I’m not sure that feeling ever goes away. Like your shadow meandering on a sunny day, there’s always a darker impulse present—and to ignore it is to deny reality itself.

But you also don’t want it to take over everything.

As a person of faith, the word that keeps coming back is one I’ve already used: mystery. Faith has allowed us to hold what feels contradictory. Like a Midwest home built for all four seasons, there is room for both doubt and hope.

So, as I reminded my boys, it’s perfectly normal to have multiple feelings at once. Our family holds both the pain of a sudden tumor diagnosis and the uncertainty of a prognosis that could alter our lives. Yet we also hold the promise that whatever may come—whether good or bad—doesn’t hold the final word.

As we move forward, we ask for your continued prayers. Hilary will be coming home at some point in the near future, so prayers for comfort and encouragement as she begins this long healing process. Prayers for the boys and me as we continue to balance normal life with supporting Hil. Lastly, pray that we would be able to make space for the deeper soul work that comes through painful seasons.

Lastly, if you are around our boys, we are specifically asking you to avoid the C-word (Cancer). One of our goals is that they get to be kids through this process. Once we have confirmation, we’ll share another update. But until then, they just get to know Mom is healing—gradually and surely, in time.

Much love,

The Horn Family

For those who have asked how they can support us: a close friend has created a Meal Train for our family with several ways to help. We have been overwhelmed by the love and care shown to us, and this is simply one practical way to walk alongside our family in this season. You can find it here.

At this time, Hilary isn't ready for visitors. Thank you for understanding and giving our family the space to rest and heal.

For those who have asked how they can follow along: I'll share a few more updates as we have them. If you'd like to receive them, you can subscribe below. I should mention that I also share other things from time to time—usually only about once a month. And, of course, you can always unsubscribe later!

While I traditionally share recommendations for books, movies, or shows, I recently stumbled across this worship song from a few years ago and thought I’d share it with you as well.

Hilary and I listened to it today. She’s been pretty out of it, but it helped ease her into some much-needed rest.

I hope it can do the same for you, friend.