Loved by millions, Canadian-born singer Michael Bublé reached worldwide fame back in 2005 with his album It’s Time and his 2007 album Call Me Irresponsible, which reached number one on the Canadian Albums Chart, the UK Albums Chart, the US Billboard 200, and several others.
Over the years, the Grammy Award winner has sold over 75 million records worldwide, but despite the enormous fame he enjoys, he has stayed grounded.
Michael is married to Argentine actress Luisana Lopilato with whom he has four children.
The couple’s son Noah, who will be 9 this year, has gone through an ordeal when he was diagnosed with liver cancer at the age of just 3.
At the time the singer heard the devastating news, he was promoting his ninth studio album Nobody But Me. It was shortly before performing at The One Show on BBC One in London.
“Three minutes before I came on, my wife texted and told me something was wrong,” he said during an interview with U.K.’s Evening Standard in July 2018, and added, “I just died.”
Luckily, Noah is now in remission, but Bublé described the ordeal as “the worst possible thing that you could hear as a parent, and as maybe a human being.”
“I much rather would have it have been me. Many times I wish that it had been,” the musician said and added that the experience made them even stronger as a family and gave them a new outlook at life.
On Noah’s eight birthday, Bublé shared an emotional post on Instagram, writing, “Today my hero turns 8. I’ve never met anyone as brave… I’ve never known anyone as kind or as good-hearted… and I’ll never truly be able to express how proud I am, or how deep and profound Mommy’s and my love is for you. You’ve blessed our lives in every way.”
Along with the touching message, the musician shared two photos of him and Noah over the years.
Bublé said that the prayers they received by fans, friends, and strangers helped them in their battle against the cancer as a family.
I Asked to Be Cut from My Parents’ Will after Overhearing My Brothers’ Conversation
When Elena’s parents decided to leave her the family home, she expected her brothers to share in the joy. Instead, their hidden resentment leads to a revelation that changes everything. Will her decision to reject her inheritance heal old wounds or create new ones?
Growing up as the youngest and the only daughter in a tight-knit family had its perks and its challenges. But mostly, I felt cherished, surrounded by my parents and two protective older brothers, Kyle and Dean.
It was the kind of childhood you’d think was straight out of a feel-good movie—complete with raucous holiday gatherings, summer barbecues in our backyard, and the kind of parents who never missed a school play or a soccer game.
Last weekend was no different in its familial warmth, or so I thought as we gathered around the dining table, the familiar scents of mom’s cooking mingling with the soft murmur of catch-up conversations.
Our parents, though noticeably grayer and more deliberate in their movements, were as spirited as ever, their eyes twinkling with a kind of excitement you’d associate with kids planning a secret clubhouse meeting.
As we settled into the comfortable rhythm of passing dishes and sharing updates, Mom and Dad exchanged a glance—a silent nod that seemed to signal it was time for the ‘main event’ of the evening.
Clearing his throat, Dad announced, “We’ve been thinking a lot about the future, especially about this house, which has been a home to so many memories for us.”
Mom took over with a voice both soft and resolute, “We’ve decided that we want Elena to have the house in our will.”
The words landed on the table with a weight I hadn’t anticipated, stirring a mixture of surprise and gratitude in me. “Really?” was all I managed, my voice a mix of shock and a burgeoning sense of responsibility.
That’s when I noticed it—the poker faces on Kyle and Dean. As our parents continued discussing the details, my brothers clapped mechanically, their smiles not quite reaching their eyes.
Something in their expressions hinted at a private joke or a shared concern, hidden just beneath the surface of their orchestrated calm.
Trying to shake off a growing unease, I nodded and thanked my parents, though the look in my brothers’ eyes—hinting at something hidden—stayed with me.
After everyone had said their goodnights and the house quieted down, the small twinge of unease I felt earlier began to settle into the pit of my stomach.
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