Some people dread their morning alarm, but I loved mine. I cherished the morning routine with my children, and I even get to bring them to work with me as an early childhood education director.
Don’t get me wrong, things could get pretty hectic with three children under 7: my daughter Stevie and my sons Townes and Donovan. If there was any mischief, it was probably instigated by my sons, and Stevie loved to tattle on them (as big sisters should).
Townes and I got ready together every morning. He loved complimenting people and would tell me how beautiful I was. In return, I would tell him he was the most handsome boy, and he wore that title with such pride.
Family life was non-stop, but somehow our schedules got even busier. Weekdays consisted of work, school and whatever family time we could squeeze in. Weekends were spent playing, dancing, enjoying meals and ending the night with a movie. We often fell asleep cuddling in the living room.
Those days were simple, but very special.
Now, I long for those memories because life will never be the same.
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‘The Moment That Split Me Into Two People’
Townes began exhibiting troubling symptoms as early as October 18, 2023. He had previously experienced staring spells at around 18 months old and had an EEG, but he had another episode during speech therapy.
We always felt something was not right, so we took Townes to his pediatrician and were repeatedly reassured he was healthy. By May 2024, we flagged the concerning changes in his speech and behavior. Townes was seen in the office a week later, but nothing escalated from there.
Then three months later, he fainted while on the swings. He was seen by the audiology department, but again, nothing further happened.
As the months went on, we kept noticing changes in his speech, and Townes would often appear shaky. I kept asking for help, all the while receiving reassurance from professionals and trusting that my advocacy was enough.
On April 8, 2025, Townes fell and sustained a laceration near his eyebrow. He was seen at urgent care, but it wasn't deemed overly concerning. Then he fell again two months later, this time leading to significant bruising. When he fell over again in July, he required dissolvable stitches, but doctors didn’t request any scans.
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Deep down, I knew it wasn’t right that my 4-year-old kept falling, and I often regret not being more insistent with his doctors.
On September 22, 2025, I noticed that his eye was moving rapidly and crossing without explanation. I sent a video to his pediatrician’s office, and he scheduled an appointment for two days later. When he was seen, I also mentioned that Townes appeared increasingly clumsy and had slurred speech. His pediatrician was confident that Townes’ middle-ear dysfunction was responsible for the symptoms and placed referrals to audiology and ENT.
I remember being surprised when the audiologist called minutes later and asked us to come in immediately. When we arrived, the audiologist said she would perform the hearing test, but what we described sounded neurological. She told us to call the advice nurse immediately, so we did on the way to the emergency department.
Once we arrived at the hospital on September 24, Townes had a CT scan. As I was 28 weeks pregnant at the time, poor Townes had to go into the scan without me.
I couldn’t deny the overwhelming sense of doom I felt, but it all became clear once the results came back.
Suddenly, there was a room full of people. The doctor pulled down his mask and said, “we found something. There is a very large tumor in his brain and it is very bad. A neurologist is on her way to speak to you.”
That is the moment that split me into two people.
There is me before I heard those words, and the me after. I went into the bathroom in the hallway, called his dad, wiped my face and then went back into the room and played dinosaurs with Townes.
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‘A Decision No Parent Should Ever Have to Make’
Scans showed a large tumor in Townes’ brainstem, later identified as diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma (DIPG).
DIPG is a fast-growing brain tumor that starts in the brainstem’s glial cells. In the U.S. alone, approximately 300 children are diagnosed with one every year, with symptoms ranging from vision problems, speech issues, facial drooping, headaches, nausea and loss of balance.
“So, how much time do we have left with him?” his dad asked. I could not believe he said that. It felt almost offensive because how could there possibly be an answer?
But then I heard one.
The neurologist explained that this cancer was terminal and the MRI would give them a better understanding of how advanced Townes’ tumor was. Our boy, who was supposed to outlive us, might not even make it to kindergarten.
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Townes had a shunt placed to drain the hydrocephalus in his brain, and many of Townes’ symptoms initially improved. Townes had his MRI the same day because he was such a high risk for strokes that they wanted to limit the number of times he had to be put under. It revealed that the tumor was approximately the size of a lime, perfectly centered in his brainstem. It was the worst possible scenario, as it couldn’t be removed.
He needed a high dose of steroids, which caused weight gain and mood changes. The steroids also caused his belly to swell up, so Townes would rub it and talk about how cute our big bellies were as I was pregnant. Townes adapted so well to every symptom and rarely complained.
In fact, Townes believed his IVs were Spider-Man gloves. We actually had a difficult time getting them removed because he thought they gave him superpowers!
Townes’ oncologist believed he had approximately four to 12 weeks left, but most likely about eight. This led to a decision no parent should ever have to make. We chose to spend every second we had together making sure he knew exactly how deeply he was loved. So, when Townes came home from the hospital, we began hospice care.
We did everything we could to prevent him from experiencing pain. Townes was brave, strong, resilient and kind. He was the most determined person, and he never let his symptoms define him.
Those weeks were some of the most painful of my life, and somehow, because they were spent with Townes, they were also some of the most beautiful.
Townes passed away at 11:58 p.m. on November 14, 2025, just six days after his fifth birthday. All his favorite people were there, and we held him as he made his transition. We could not have gotten through that experience without Townes’ hospice nurse. She gave Townes such compassionate, gentle care while caring for all of us.
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‘Held Him Through the Scariest Thing a Person Can Do’
Our sweet boy lived to the fullest, just like he always had, for seven weeks and two days. He was running around and playing with his cousins less than 24 hours before he passed away.
Just a few days before, Townes and I decorated the house for Christmas. We kept our living room cozy with a fire going, the Christmas tree lit and his favorite movie, The Santa Clause, on the TV. He loved the holidays, and we wanted him to experience one final Christmas.
Those weeks were incredibly difficult; I was 35 weeks pregnant when Townes passed away, and there is something indescribable about losing one son while carrying another. Townes always made sure I was taken care of. Even while I was losing him, he was taking care of me.
Two weeks after Townes passed, Angus was born. When we found out we were having another boy, we decided to name him after one of Townes’ favorite musicians. It was always meant to be Angus, the chosen one. And he was—Townes chose him just for us.
Parenting Townes taught us that true, unconditional love exists. He taught us that love can give you the strength to run toward what scares you most. We carried Townes and held him through the scariest thing a person can do.
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Now, I try to view life the way Townes did. He deserves to have his life change me. I remind myself that it is easy to take time for granted, but it is more difficult to waste time when you are living for someone who won’t get the chance.
I could not have experienced the greatest loss of my life without experiencing one of the greatest loves of my life. I carry his life forward while continuing to advocate for Townes and for the many children affected by DIPG, many of whom do not live longer than two years after diagnosis.
I advocated for Townes relentlessly, and that does not end because his life did. I couldn’t keep Townes here, but through grief, I can make sure his life and what happened to him matter.
The people we love deserve to continue taking up space in this world, even after they are no longer here. Cherish their memories, share their joy as loud as you can, and remember what a beautiful thing it is to be loved by so many people.
Annie Snoots, 33, resides in Vancouver, Washington with her partner and three children, Stevie, Donovan and Angus. She has documented her experience on social media (@anniesnoots on TikTok and Instagram) to highlight how she navigates grief and to raise awareness for DIPG.