Dear sickness,
I couldn't carry her up the stairs.
Her weight was unbearable and she lay limp in my arms.
Dear chemo,
She really did lose all of her hair.
We would go out in public and people would stare.
She wore a wig but still, I knew.
Dear limbs so skinny,
I watched her walk down the hallway using her walker.
My father clutching her arm, guiding.
It broke me in two, to see the jutting bones.
There was nothing left of her.
Dear insanity,
I remember the night she called to say goodbye.
She thought she wasn't going to last another day,
After all... the nurses were out to get her,
and she didn't understand why she had to take so many pills.
Dear rotting tumor,
You had been growing for over a year in her brain.
Taking up space where there should have been healthy cells growing.
You took away so much, the little things,
the big things, the important things...
The heart and soul of things.
Dear growing pains,
I realized what it meant to age quickly,
To grow up sooner than you are ready.
I did it, and I'm still here.
My mother's still here,
although some parts of her
will never be the same.